


Winds of Change

by Spacefille



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Mass Effect 1, Rape, Slow Build, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4227075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacefille/pseuds/Spacefille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the First Contact War has continued on for decades. Shepard is captured during one of her first missions by a turian soldier named Garrus Vakarian.</p><p>When the turian base  is attacked the two find that they have to work together in order to stay alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captured

.

It was the most boring outpost job he could possibly imagine that he’d have to endure five years into his mandatory military service. Garrus Vakarian sighed as he cleaned his scope for what felt like the fifth time that day, eyes glazed as he looked out over the forest they were currently set up in. It was a sparsely treed place, this planet, due to being unbearably arid, with extreme cold on either pole. They had found one of the only green patches in the entire damn place to set up a base.

It didn’t make it any less boring.

Four months, he thought to himself. Four months and he could apply for a job at C-Sec at the Citadel and make his father proud… and more importantly get out of the military. Sure he’d still be serving the Hierarchy, but sitting around in the woods in frigid temperatures for hours on end would stop.

Most Turians would stay in the military longer, serve all fifteen years, but Garrus often found himself… not chafing at the orders he was given, but fighting to find some sort of point to everything. Like this outpost. It held no real value, except that it was right where humans would be likely to start looking for a new world to start a colony, and it was their duty to make sure they didn’t.

He didn’t see the point, to be frank, of preventing them from expanding if they wanted to, especially if they colonized uninhabited planets like this one. The turians had taken it as a personal affront that the humans wanted to use the network of relays to settle on new planets.

Because of that the war had been going on for nearly 20 years, almost as long as he’d been alive, and neither side seemed to want to back down. The casualties had to number in the hundreds of thousands by now, on both sides, even though there were often years between flare-ups. He knew the Citadel council had been trying to shut the war since it began. He wondered if they would ever succeed. He knew they had forbidden the Hierarchy from attacking humans where they had already settled and established colonies prior to the start of the war, but that didn’t stop the bloodshed that occurred for everything after. 

He had nearly started to doze, a bad thing for a soldier to do, when his ear piece clicked on, startling him from his potential sleep. “Hostiles approaching,” was the clipped report from his commanding officer. Garrus was instantly on alert, eyes skimming the small meadow below.

He saw the movement along the far grove of trees. He raised his rifle and sighted them. Yep, definitely human. He focused, adjusted, and waited for the order.

He didn’t have to wait long. The humans were in a formation, making their way through the trees, weapons drawn. He counted four… no, five of them. One of them, he noticed, had short red hair, rare for a human. It also made… her? stand out more. Probably a female, he decided, despite the fact that her head was turned. What intel they had on humans said their females were smaller and more streamlined than the males, and they had a more asari-like appearance. Her body shape fit the description.

He heard the shots before the order came through, from further off in the woods. The humans below heard the gunfire as well and he saw them react, crouching low, weapons at ready, looking back in the direction of the noise.

“We are under attack. Open fire,” was the calm order in his headset.

He did so without question. He sighted on Red first, but she went down before he could fire a shot. He adjusted, lined up the shot, and got another human just to her right. The other three scrambled, but he still got another one before they could make it out of his range.

It was over in a matter of seconds. The last two humans went down as well, by someone else’s hand. He could hear a few more smatterings of weapons fire from the woods, and then nothing. He watched the treeline warily, ready for anything.

Minutes went by. It had to be a full fifteen minutes later when the all clear came crackling through his headset. Garrus relaxed and listened to the radio chatter.

They had a small frigate. It was empty, all hostiles had disembarked. It looked like a scouting ship, nothing much to worry about, and it appeared that the humans had been on recon. It was unknown if they were looking for a place to set up a colony, or if they knew that there was a turian base was on this planet.

There were no survivors.

“Head back to base,” came the order. Garrus shouldered his rifle and hopped down to the ground. He had to walk by the bodies on his way back… he wondered briefly why there had been no orders to search them. He supposed the other squadmates who were deeper into the woods would cover that on their way out. He mentally shrugged and went to walk by when his eyes caught sight of Red’s hair in the grass.

He could have sworn he saw her move.

He had his pistol out in a second, and approached very slowly. She didn’t move again, still sprawled out on her stomach, head turned away from him. He almost wondered if he was seeing things, until he got close enough to see her properly.

It was her breathing that gave her away. Corpses didn’t breathe.

He predicted her movements before she even made them, and damn, she was fast. One second she was prone, the next she had rolled over and almost managed to point a gun at him. Almost… she was slowed down by an injury, he could see by the way her hand fumbled and the flash of bright red, along with a bit of exposed skin on her upper arm. A half a second later and he had kicked the weapon out of her hand, using the follow through to pin that arm back to the ground again.

She screamed, a short bitten off sound, not nearly as loud as he would have expected. He lined up his pistol so it was aimed right at the center of her forehead.

She froze and went absolutely still, green eyes (those were interesting, the vids they watched on humans didn’t have any with that color) focused up at him, face dirty on one side, lips curled in a snarl. She was low ranking. He could tell just by looking at her, she was young, younger than most, and there were no special bars or insignias on her lightweight armor. She probably wouldn’t be very valuable to them at all. “So the question is,” he drawled. “Do I shoot you now, or do I take you prisoner?”

“Fuck you,” she swore, her voice low and angry.

“Not an answer I was looking for,” he said. He reached up with one hand and clicked on his headset. “We have a survivor. Minor injury to the arm, but otherwise it looks like she’s in good condition. Orders?”

There was a momentary pause and some subdued radio chatter. “Bring her in,” was the reply moments later.

“Understood,” Garrus replied into the radio and clicked it off again. She was glaring up at him now, her eyes shining with tears. He knew what rage was, asari were close enough to humans when it came to facial reactions that he could read her.

“You’re in luck,” he said amicably. “My superiors don’t want you dead.” He holstered his pistol.

That would be fear in her eyes now, something that was quickly masked by even more rage. “Fuck you, you turian bastard!” she screamed. “Don’t you fucking touch me…” she trailed off into a strangled gasp as Garrus flipped her easily, pinning her with a knee to the small of her back and dropping a computerized restraint onto one of her wrists. He uncurled the other from a pouch at his waist and dropped it onto her other wrist. A quick press of a button and the two restraints snapped together, binding her hands behind her back.

She didn’t stop fighting him the entire time, even with her hands bound behind her back. He hauled her up into a sitting position. Now he took his time, taking a glove off in order to loop a thick talon through the fabric of her lightweave armor. It tore with some effort, revealing ivory skin stained with blood. He found the wound and quickly unclipped some medi-gel from his belt, pouring it over the wound. She let out an odd yelp as the bluish liquid coated her upper arm.

“There,” he said, satisfied, as he put his glove back on. “You’ll live,” he got to his feet and brought her with him. “Come on,” he added, and began to march her forward.

She was suspiciously silent for the entirety of the walk back to the base, and it was only when they neared it he realized she was trembling under the hand he had clasped to the back of her neck. He stared down at her with curiosity, but her head was lowered, eyes trained on the ground, and because of that he couldn’t read her expression. Scared, probably, he decided, and felt a small flicker of sympathy. He wouldn’t want to be in her shoes right now.

.

They took her from him when got to the base. He didn’t mind, he was actually quite relieved to turn her over.  He thought nothing much else of it as he returned to the armory to turn in his weapons for the night and headed to the mess hall for dinner.

.


	2. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains rape. If that is highly uncomfortable I’d recommend skipping to the next chapter. The rotating point of view will allow the reader to pick up the story from there.

.

They had taken her, after the grey one with blue paint on his face dropped her off, and questioned her for hours. She didn’t know anything, not really. She was just a sub-lieutenant, promoted from ensign a few short months ago, and this was her second real mission. This was her first mission outside of the solar system, the first had been to the Mars base. She hadn’t even seen a turian in real life until one of them had a gun pointed to her forehead.

She had seen turians before, of course, on the training vids. Every human had to learn about their alien enemies in depth. In basic they learnt about their physiology and how they couldn’t eat the same food as humans and how they were carnivores with teeth that grew back if they fell out, and those vids had been scary enough as it was.

 It was all that much more shocking to see a real alien up close and personal.

They walked to like humans, strangely enough, despite seeming to balance oddly on the balls of their feet. There was an almost predator-like grace to their movements. Their voices were weird and dual-toned. Sometimes the words they said split apart and came back together, though her translator implant seemed to handle it well. Their eyes were small and bright in deep blackened sockets. They had mandibles over sharp needle point teeth and plates of… bone? Thick skin? Something like that… it was all over their faces. When they saw something of interest they’d hone in on it, sharp eyes darting to and fro to take everything in, which made her feel even more threatened, if that was possible.

They stripped her bare and tied her to a chair before questioning her. One of them hit her across the face and arms, and demanded to know what they were doing on the planet. She refused to speak, to give them any satisfaction, but after hours of that kind of treatment she broke. She didn’t have all that much to hide anyway, what she knew was minimal, they were scouting the planet, she didn’t know why, she was just a junior officer. She went where the Alliance pointed her, and she said as much.

Her arms ached, the barely healed bullet wound on her arm reminding her of its existence every time she shifted on her chair. They left her there for hours, only to come back and do it all over again. She still didn’t know anything but she pissed herself when one turian with brown face paint hit her in the stomach… it made him draw back with what she thought might have been an expression of utter disbelief on his face. She didn’t do it on purpose, she was barely conscious, it happened. She was too tired and sore to even care that she was sitting in a puddle of her own filth.

They cleaned her up after that, before putting her back in the electronic handcuffs and leading her to a new room. This one was empty save for a toilet and a sink. Both fixtures were surprisingly human-like, though she remembered the vids said turians were human enough when it came to stuff like this. She was still tied and naked but she could use both if she got creative with her feet…

.

No one came for the rest of the first day. She couldn’t sleep with the pressure against her arms, but she dozed raggedly. The next morning she tested the water from the sink… it tasted enough like water she was used to so she took the risk and drank it.

She was on a clock, she knew that. Everyone was dead, the way the one with the blue paint had said “survivor” when he captured her, as well as the gunfire she heard around her when she went down convinced her that nothing remained of the team. She mourned, a lump in her throat forming as she thought about one of them. Jim Bronston… Jimmy to her. She had known him in basic, they had fooled around a little here and there when they had gotten a chance. She didn’t have a family before joining the military, not really, foster parents didn’t count. He had been the first real friend she ever had. And now he was dead, she knew because she saw it happen, just a couple seconds after she got shot in the arm and hit the ground herself. Clean headshot, no one was getting up from that.

It made her ache inside, a terrible, suffocating feeling. She alternated between desperate sadness and so much rage she could barely think straight.

The damn turians had taken everything from her. They were going to take her life as well, she knew that because they rarely took prisoners. Most of the time humans were tortured for information and killed. The few who were traded were important enough to be bargained for.

She had hoped she’d be an exception, but even she realized that was a dream that wasn’t about to come true. The best thing she could do was wait, and, while she was still alive, look for a window of opportunity. If she could escape somehow and make it back to the ship… she could send out a warning. Let the Alliance know that turians were on this planet so no one else had to die…

.

That night three turians let themselves into her cell.

Shepard went completely still and eyed them warily.

They looked younger than the ones that interrogated her the day before, though she had no real way to tell. They were wearing light gear, nothing like the armor she had seen on the one that brought her here on the first day. Off duty, perhaps?

No matter what, this didn’t bode well for her. She kept her mouth firmly shut, determined not to say a thing. If she spoke, they’d just use it against her. Instead she watched, sharp eyes skimming over each turian in turn, taking in all that she could.

One was bigger than the other two. The biggest one had green paint on his face, one of the others had purple paint and the last one had a stripe of red across his forehead. She couldn’t remember the reason why they wore colored markings, but she was sure it was covered in basic and she was equally as sure that it really didn’t matter at this point.

They circled around her, all three of them looking her up and down. She was acutely aware that she was naked and bound, and once again cursed the situation she was in. They had the upper hand in every way.

When they finally settled, one was up near her head, another at her side and the last, the biggest one, by her feet. That one she watched closely, with only quick glances at the other two to make sure they didn’t move any closer to her. Big guy between her legs was leering at her, mandibles flared as he looked her up and down, slow and deliberate.

She got it, and her blood ran chill.

She knew that look, she knew it, even on a different species with no discernible facial expressions she knew it, she had seen it on enough men back on Earth before she joined the Alliance, and a couple times since. She felt a sick feeling settle into the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t thought this would be the way she’d go, fucked into the floor and probably torn apart by a bunch of dinosaur monsters.

Her thoughts were confirmed when big guy sunk to his knees and grabbed her ankles in order to pull her legs apart.

She jerked, tried to yank away. The action was reflexive. She knew what he wanted, it was obvious, and more so when he pinned one of her ankles with his foot and reached his free hand between her legs. She stiffened as one of those talons touched her intimately. She darted another glance up at the two other turians beside her, and back down to the one below, wondering yet again if there was some way to fight them off. She instantly realized it was useless. Between the three of them, she couldn’t fight them, especially with her arms tied behind her back and without having anything to eat in two days.

 She was dangerously close to panicking. She had to use every bit of training she had just to make sure that didn’t show. ‘Don’t freak out, don’t freak out,’ she told herself mentally. She had to work to keep her breathing level.

“There we go,” announced the one between her legs as he slid the tip of one of his fingers just inside of her. She went completely still, breathing shallowly, but proud that she wasn’t flipping out or hyperventilating. That talon looked sharp, if she moved… “Told you they were just like asari,” he continued, looking up at the other two soldiers now as he withdrew his hand. “We can definitely fuck her.”

One of the ones near her head nodded, and as she watched the weird mandibles on the side of his face flared. She wondered what the hell that meant. A grin? Was he grinning? She returned her gaze to the one between her legs. The big one was the instigator, the other two seemed more curious and possibly less dangerous to her current well being. Shepard watched as the turian that had her by the legs let go of the leg he still held onto in order to fumble at his trousers.

This was going to happen.

She thought about it, and then decided very quickly that she had nothing left to lose. She was outnumbered and her arms were still tied behind her back, but at least she could fight for herself in the meantime. She kicked the big turian, hard in the knee joint, and thrashed, making one last desperate bid for freedom. The turian fell back with a startled cry, and then one of the ones at her side went for one of her legs, pinning it down with both of his hands. She let out an inarticulate scream and fought harder, but nothing gave. They were stronger than they looked.

“Thank you,” the bigger turian growled. He sunk his claws of his free hand into her unpinned leg and she bit back a cry as the claws broke skin and sunk into her flesh. The cry turn into a series of small, short screams of agony as he didn’t let go.

“Sir…” one of the smaller turians began. He quelled him with a quick glance, and then turned his attention back to Shepard.

“Stop fighting and this won’t hurt as much,” he snarled at her as he released her leg.

Shepard lay there obediently, blinking past the pain, trying to get her hyperventilating under control. She had… _heard_ that line before, except the first time it wasn’t a literal monster saying it, it had just been another human and she had been young and dumb enough to be cowed into not fighting him off.

Damn it, she had promised herself she’d never let this happen again. Now there was a very real possibility she actually would die.

She turned her face away and towards the wall, fighting back tears.

This was not the way she had expected to go.

.

Time slowed down and sped up simultaneously. She heard the rustle of fabric and looked back despite herself. Information was good, and it would be better if she saw what was going to happen to her, no matter how much she wanted to block it out. The green painted turian had the bottom half of his uniform down now, revealing a featureless crotch.

Shepard stared. What…?

The turian made a contented sound as he ran a hand up and down where his plates disappeared between his legs. She could see now that there was a sliver-thin crack there, and it was widening rapidly. A cock emerged from between those plates, like something out of a horror movie, long, thin but relatively human like, with plating up the underside.

Shepard broke. She couldn’t help it; it was absolutely fucking terrifying to see an alien dick coming out of a formerly featureless crotch. She screamed inarticulately and kicked out despite being pinned, then fought yet again to get away with energy she didn’t have.

That just led to the turian grabbing at her legs and flipping her over. She let out a muffled ofph sound as she landed on her front, and without her hands free to catch her fall that hurt more than she expected it to. Taloned hands gripped her hips and hauled her up, while another one of the smaller turians placed a foot against one of her shoulders, pinning her awkwardly. She kept struggling until the pressure against her shoulder blade became too much to bare.

Shepard stilled by degrees, her breaths coming out as wet gasps. Every muscle tensed as she heard movement behind her and waited, and then felt the shove against her. She let out a stifled cry as the turian hit home.

.

It hurt. It both hurt less than she expected, he wasn’t overly big, but more because the damn thing wasn’t as smooth as a human dick. It was harder and more immobile in ways, it seemed, and after a while she was glad she was on her stomach, because the rest of his body was plated too and she couldn’t imagine this would have been very comfortable if she was pressed against him and had no way to readjust her legs. Not to mention the pressure on her arms would have had her in agony. As it was, her shoulder was beginning to rub raw against the floor.

She didn’t know how long it lasted, but it seemed to go forever. They switched off. The big one lasted… she didn’t know… it felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. He gripped her hips so hard he broke skin, she could feel blood running along her waist to drip to the ground below. One of the little ones went next, he was gentler and she found it was easier to just shut her mind down and forget what was happening to her, even get a bit of mild pleasure from it as he hit her in the right places by complete accident. The last one… as he rode her roughly he actually fucking *bit* her, in the shoulder near the back of her neck, and she screamed yet again when he did.

Her only reprieve was the fact that, while she was in this position, she didn’t actually have to see them.

She was beyond exhausted when the big one decided he wanted to have her again. She didn’t resist this time when he hauled her hips up and only let out a stifled moan when he slipped inside. She was already beyond sore and battered, and whatever they had for cum didn’t make the passage much easier. She stopped thinking about what was happening to her and started wishing she had some sort of lubricant. That stuck her as one of the most hysterical things she had ever thought for the timing. Like she could say ‘excuse me, Mr. Turian, could you please stop raping me for a moment and go get something to help with this, it’d make life easier for the both of us.’

She felt like she had been rubbed raw and was probably bleeding by that point, though she had no way to actually check. Constant whimpers welled up from her throat as he set up a punishing pace, every single thrust jolting her growing number of injuries.

The new voice hit her like a cold shock to the system.

“Macius, I know you have a fetish for humans, but this is truly ridiculous,” the words were carefully said, and the voice was very familiar. “Forcing yourself on a prisoner? Really.”

She let out an involuntarily cry as the green painted turian pulled out of her far too quickly. It took her a moment to swim up through her agony to refocus on the voice. It was the blue painted turian, with the grey plates, the one who had brought her here. She shifted so that she could see him and sure enough, he was in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, leaning up against the frame, casual as could be.

Oh. She processed what he had just said. Wait, was he here to help her?

“Ah, it’s just stress relief,” the big turian said flippantly. “Who cares, they’re going to kill her anyway.”

There was a rustle of clothing. She looked away from Grey and saw that the two smaller turians were adjusting their clothes back into place. As she watched they nodded at each other and stepped towards the door. Grey eyed them and at the last second moved away from the door frame so that they could pass. He settled back against the door and focused right back on the big turian that was still in the room.

“I don’t believe that gives you permission to use her for your own personal enjoyment,” there was something scornful in the way he emphasized almost every second word. If she wasn’t mistaken, Grey was on her side.

That got a scoff out of the remaining turian.

 “You don’t want a go at her?” Macius said, flaring his mandibles at Grey. “Might not have another chance with a human.”

She turned sideways now, closing her legs as she did so. Everything hurt as she moved, her shoulders and arms an unhappy throb, sharp pain from her entrance as she shifted. Torn, definitely. If that damn third turian hadn’t been so rough…she barely held back the whimper of pain that welled up from her throat.

Grey’s pale blue eyes darted to her, inspecting her silently as she swallowed back the agony and tried her best not to let it show. He held her eyes a moment too long, then looked back at the other turian. “It doesn’t sound like she’s enjoying it very much.” he drawled. “And I don’t find torture to be that much of a turn on,” he added, stressing the word torture. He walked further into the room and looked down at her. She held his gaze, defiant now.

She didn’t know what he wanted and he wasn’t giving anything away, his mandibles tight against the sides of his face. She narrowed her eyes at him, teeth clenched against the pain. What did he _want_?

He blinked, then looked at Macius, that twitch-quick honing way of moving his head was almost creepy.

“You should go,” he said to Macius, and his voice was low but even.

Oh. He was angry. That translated as pissed off, she was sure of it. And, that anger wasn’t directed at her, thank fuck.

The other turian laughed, actually laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You’re no different than me, Vakarian,” he returned. Even so, he got to his feet and left the room as he was asked. Grey didn’t move until the door slid back shut behind him.

Shepard tried to push back her anxiety now that she was alone with him. She had a feeling she was out of the fire, for now, but her original captor was an unknown element. True, he hadn’t hurt her very much when he captured her, never once did his claws dig into the back of her neck when he led her to this base to begin with, but he was still a turian. He was still the enemy and she was still going to die.

She turned over completely, ignoring the strain on her arms or how vulnerable that made her, how it exposed her breasts… and eyed him warily.

His mandibles moved now, flicking up and down several times.

Oh. What was that? Anger? Sadness? Cleaning his teeth? She couldn’t tell. They should have studied turian facial reactions in basic, but she guessed they didn’t figured it was necessary, as turians would be very likely to blast you in the face if they were close to you.

He let out an oddly human sigh and crouched down so that he was at eye level with her. “What’s your name?” he asked.

Shepard didn’t reply and didn’t stop eyeing him.

“Okay, I get it. No talking to the big scary turian,” he said, and she thought she could hear amusement in his deep dual-toned voice. “It’s just a name,” he added, but then made a small shrug. The movement was so human it momentarily shocked her.

He was silent for a moment, then looked down, scanning her body. Her heart froze.

She was sure he was different, that he didn’t want to… he returned his gaze to her face and tilted his head slightly to the side. He reached out towards her.

She flinched, she couldn’t help it. She was in too much pain and way too strung out to go through this again. A ‘please, no’ rose to her lips, though she forced herself not to say it. She wouldn’t beg. She _wouldn’t_.

He caught her flinch and froze. “I…” his fingers twitched, still a good couple inches from her shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to see… ahh, you’re injured. Can… can I at least take a look…?”

Shepard closed her eyes and drew in a couple deep breaths, then nodded.

He barely touched her. A slight nudge here to move her arm to the side, another there to have her turn away so he could see her back. He really was taking note of her injuries, she realized, his touches feather light and none of them lasting for more than a second.

She had nearly panicked for nothing.

He let out an odd hissing sound when he saw her back.

“He _bit_ you,” he said.

She nodded again, once sharply. She wasn’t sure why it mattered, she had gouges on her thighs and hips. The hand that was barely ghosting over her shoulder stilled. Her face was turned away so she had no idea what was up with him. Was he angry? He sounded angry. Or, well, offended at least.

He moved again after a moment and turned her back around with another small touch.  She sat back at another hand gesture from him, so her ass was on the cold hard floor. She froze when he placed a hand on her knee, trying to move it away from the other.

She shook her head. It was too much, she couldn’t…

He paused and withdrew his hand, sitting back himself.

“I wanted to check… hmm,” he began and stalled out as he considered his words. “Are you, ah, injured. Internally,” he trailed off and looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“What,” she said, flatly.

He flinched, actually flinched, then looked at her, and his eyes seemed concerned, if that was possible. “I don’t know how compatible our two species are. I don’t know how injured you might be,” he looked at her crotch in a very obvious way. “You look red down there, but you don’t appear to be bleeding. I don’t… the damage might be extensive.”

She stared at him, then sighed and decided to break her silence, since she already had. It didn’t look like this turian was going to use anything she said against her anyway. “Probably. I’ll live. Until one of you decides to kill me, that is.”

He drew in a deep breath and let it out again. “I would like it if you didn’t have to suffer in the meantime,” he said.

That was stupid. “We’re enemies,” she pointed out. “And we’re at war. What turian cares if a human prisoner suffers for a while?”

“ _I_ care,” he returned, and looked and sounded slightly offended now.  "I want to help you."

“Really?” she returned, partly curious and partly so tired and done with everything turian. “Why? So you can feel better about yourself?”

“I suppose that’s part of it, probably, yes,” his eyes met her own, held for a moment. He looked away first and got to his feet. He walked over to the door. He stopped there and touched the frame with a tentative hand before turning back again. “I’ll be back. If I can,” he paused and seemed to consider his words. “I don’t mean that as a threat.”

She realized he was waiting for some sort of response from her. She nodded once in acknowledgement, and he turned and left, the door sliding shut behind him.

She stared at the closed door for a long time after he had gone.

.


	3. Duty

.

He had been down in the locker room after evening mess, putting away his datapad for the day, when he heard it. It was a strangled scream, followed by a series of muffled whimpers, and he knew immediately who it was. It was the human he had brought to the base only two short days previous.

Everyone knew they had a human at the bottom level, but no one had really heard anything else. Garrus had asked, somewhat interested about her well being, but his inquiry had been met with abrupt indifference.

No one cared what happened to her, she’d be dead soon enough, they said. As soon as word came down from the Hierarchy she would be executed.

The noises had stopped him cold, mostly because he knew it was after hours and he didn’t think his superiors would be interrogating a prisoner so late at night. Still, he almost didn’t go and check. The human was none of his business. If a superior officer was with her, he could get in trouble. He stood there, uncertain, fingers twitching at his sides before he decided. He could at least gather more information…

It was only when he heard the voice of one of his fellow squadmates that he realized what was probably going on. Macius was a piece of work. He’d often go on at length about how he found human women inexplicably attractive, and how he’d like to fuck one of them some day. It was bullshit Garrus often chose to completely ignore, because no one cared who had a fetish for what alien species, not really. Sure, it was frowned upon, but everyone he knew had a friend or aunt or uncle who had fucked some alien or another. Whether it was a quarian or an asari, it didn’t matter… and humans were just like fringeless asari anyway.

What Macius was doing was wrong, and he could tell by her small broken cries that this wasn’t something she was enjoying. He couldn’t just leave her there to suffer, his conscious wouldn’t let him. She was here because he didn’t put a bullet in her head when he had the chance. Garrus’ mandibles flexed as he steeled himself briefly, before stepping into the room.

It was worse than he thought it would be. She was injured, bleeding, and Macius had brought a pair of new recruits with him. He swallowed back his repulsion in order to chase Macius off.

.

She took it better than he thought she would. Her eyes were clear as she watched his every move, suspicion on her face. She was traumatized, he could tell by the minute twitches, the way she flinched away when he went to touch her, even the way she tensed when he moved.  She was fighting hard to not show any of that. He could admire that. She was definitely a soldier, and a strong one as well, if something like this couldn’t break her. Though he supposed she might show signs of it later… he couldn’t really tell with humans. He had never met one up close and personal before.

He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sorry… he thought he had made the right choice by bringing her there, and he was under order besides. But he hadn’t meant for this to happen and he supposed his guilt showed in the way he treated her. He wanted to reassure her that it’d be okay, despite knowing it wouldn’t be. It was a strange feeling to have towards a prisoner and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

He also knew he wouldn’t wish this fate on his worst enemy. What if she was his sister, captured by humans? He was absolutely unable to cope with the thought. He’d kill them all.

Every last one.

.

 Commander Netaur Alenion barely looked up from his screen as Garrus entered the room. “Vakarian,” he greeted shortly, before shutting down his monitor with a small sigh. He clasped his hands in front of his face. “I think I know why you’re here.”

That surprised Garrus. “Oh?” he replied. “Sir.” He added quickly. Damn, he usually didn’t slip up like that, but he was genuinely surprised to know his commanding officer was expecting him.

His CO nodded. “Two young recruits just came by, claiming that you caught them with the human prisoner. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Garrus replied, without hesitation this time. Of course they’d have turned themselves in, they obviously knew what they were doing was wrong. It was far better to confess, then to cover a crime like that.

Alenion sat back with a sigh. “That is unfortunate. What is her condition?”

Garrus shifted minutely but kept his mandibles flat and neutral. “I’m not sure. She’s bleeding, but I don’t know if her wounds are superficial or not. I asked, but she wouldn’t directly answer.”

That got a chuckle. “Of course not, humans are a stubborn lot,” Alenion called up his screen again and typed something into it. “I’m giving you leave from your duties tomorrow. No one much wants the job but the orders haven’t come down from above to execute her yet, which means we have to keep her alive. I want you to clean her up tonight. Use whatever you need from medical and patch her up as best you can. You might want to hobble her if you free her hands though; those soldiers mentioned she put up a hell of a fight.”

“Yes, sir,” Garrus replied, trying to hide his nervousness. He said he’d return to see her again if he could, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he especially didn’t want to be put in _charge_ of the human. She had every reason to hate him and that might make her hard to work with. Still, it was probably better him than anyone else after what she’d been though.

“Oh,” Alenion said, like he had forgotten something. “Her things are in storage locker 55B. See if she has any food in there, she can’t eat ours.”

“Of course, sir,” Garrus said.

“Dismissed.”

.

As soon as Garrus left the room he drew in a deep breath and let it out again. Being relieved of duties was a relief, he was on cleaning tomorrow, something he enjoyed the least out of his roster rotation. But, again, being placed in charge of the human…

He steeled himself and went off to find what he needed. He stopped by medical first, grabbing some medi-gel packs, as well as a wash basin and a stack of cloths. He found the hobble in the armory, made for turians, but if he cinched it tight enough it should fit her small human ankles.

He went through her stuff last. There were food packets in her pack and finding those made him glad. She probably hadn’t eaten since she had arrived. He took out two and put the rest away. He had enough for a couple more days.

Her clothes were in the locker as well, lightweave armor and boots. He went and shifted them aside and found pale colored underwear. He contemplated for a moment, then added them to the considerable pile. His CO hadn’t mentioned giving clothing her or not, and it seemed safe enough to offer her her breast harness and underwear back. What little he knew of humans told him that they valued modesty as much as turians. On war vids he hadn’t seen any human that showed much skin at all, save for sometimes their upper arms in the middle of a warm season. These two items weren’t much, but he also knew both covered potential erogenous zones… mostly because turians like Macius had said what those erogenous zones were in his blathering about how much he enjoyed humans.

If they wished to confiscate the underwear from her again they could. He tried his best to blink weariness from his eyes as he headed back to her cell, the one that had actually been created for other turians in the event of the very low chance that there was ever a problem with discipline or even a mutiny. It was out of the way and underground. It was already a little past the time he was supposed to be settling in for his sleep cycle. Maybe he’d sleep in a corner of her cell that night… he cut that thought off the moment he thought it. Haha, no, like she needed that extra stress and he needed the extra stress of knowing she could attack and try to kill him while he slept.

.

Her eyes were wary, every muscle in her body tensed as she looked up at him. The tension eased slightly when she saw who he was and when she saw the bundle in his arms.

Garrus settled down in front of her and decided to start with the food. He pulled out a packet and ripped open the top, only to stare down at it. It was semi liquid and looked like greybrown mush. He sniffed it and drew back quickly. It smelt terrible.

She let out a soft chuckle and he glanced up at her, surprised. She sobered up quickly. The wariness was gone, he noticed with a sense of relief. She still looked terrible, with dried blood in lines decorating her back and hips, and she had dark circles under her eyes, but she wasn’t glaring at him any longer, or so tense it looked like she’d strain a muscle.

“I don’t know what this is,” Garrus said finally.

“I can tell,” her voice was dry.

“I need to feed you,” he added.

“You don’t say,” that was definitely sarcasm now.

“I…”

She sighed and came to his rescue, leaning forward a bit. “Put the edge of the packet towards me.” He did as he was told and she tilted her head to the side. She caught the edge of the packet with her blunted teeth and curled her lips over it. “Okay, now squeeze,” she said, her voice muffled.

He did so. He got the hang of it after a moment, and she gulped it down quickly. She only lost a little of the mixture down the side of her face and swiped most of it with her tongue.

He stared at her, and then put the packet down and opened up the second one. They repeated the process and she ate this one extremely quickly as well.

When he got up to go for the wash basin she sat back with another sigh, leaning back against the wall. “So, you got stuck with taking care of me, did you?” she said.

“Just following orders, ma’am,” he said, picking up the basin and filling it with water from the sink.

Her eyebrow shot up at the ma’am and then she shook her head. “Let me guess, someone has to give the order to kill me, but they haven’t yet, for some reason?”

He was silent. He finished filling the wash basin and dropped a cloth in, wringing it out before coming back over to crouch in front of her.

“How long do I have?” she asked quietly, her voice subdued now.

“I don’t know,” Garrus replied.

She was quiet as he set about cleaning her wounds so he could pour medi-gel over them. “Well,” she muttered finally. “At least you’re honest.”

He didn’t reply, yet again, and tried to shake the feeling of guilt as he cleaned the rest of her wounds. She went without resistance when he went to clean her back. There was a nasty bite on one of her shoulders and that angered him almost as much as walking in on seeing a prisoner being needlessly abused. Humans didn’t have a protective ridge around their necks to bite down on, and this bite was swollen and bruised. Not only that, *biting* was a bit of a taboo even among turians, it was something saved for between devoted couples who consented to more violent displays of affection. It communicated perceived ownership in some cases, and trust in others. Human skin was weaker than theirs, muscles made up for the lack of plating, and obviously it couldn’t take much rough handling. Cleaning it made rage boil up inside of him, made worse by the fact that she chose that moment to speak up, while still facing the wall. “Shepard,” she said.

“What?” he replied, pulling away a little bit.

“Shepard. Jane Shepard. You asked me my name. That’s my name.”

He finished cleaning her back and nudged her in order to have her turn around again. “I need to clean your…” he gestured to her lower body.

“Yeah, I know, do it,” she tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling.

He almost couldn’t bring himself to do it. It just seemed so awful to even contemplate touching another species there, when not invited to do so. He tried his best to hide his feelings and stuck his hand out, drawing his cloth against her intimate bits. It was strange, here, there was a slightly cropped fringe of that… hair? Humans wore on their heads, but when he shifted he could see under it. It was a mess of dried fluids he didn’t want to think about, and it was still redder than the rest of her skin. She sucked a hissed breath in through her teeth as he cleaned.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, drawing away.

She nodded. “A little.”

“I…” he didn’t know what to do or say. If he kept cleaning her he risked hurting her further.

She looked back at him and sighed. “Can you untie me? I’ll do it myself,” she offered.

He hesitated only for a moment, and then went for the hobble. She watched him silently as he attached it to her legs, then turned her about to undo her arms.

He didn’t expect her to lash out the moment her hands were free, though in retrospect he supposed he should have predicted it. She almost got her hands around his neck before he was able to grab her wrist and slam her back onto the floor. She let out a cry of pain and struggled for all she was worth, and he found he had to apply a knee to the small of her back to keep her from continuing. Even then she didn’t stop fighting until he had pressed her far past the point of where she should be experiencing pain.

He liked her, he realized, as her struggling slowed and finally stopped. She was vibrant and very much alive despite her soon to be certain death. She wasn’t going to give up without a fight, or at least she wasn’t until this particular moment…

“I’m the top hand to hand specialist on this base,” he said, his voice low, when she had gone completely limp. “I wouldn’t suggest doing that again,” he brought her back up and thrust her into the wall, back first. He clasped the restraint on the wrist he held, then grabbed the other wrist and put the restraint on that one as well. Now she was bound with her hands in front of her instead of behind.

It was like all of the fight left her. She stared at the floor, hair covering her eyes and he realized after a moment she was crying, silently, moisture dripping down her face. He had seen an asari cry, but never…

He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it. He reached out, almost against his will, and touched the damp skin of her cheek, sliding his fingers along it. She looked up then, eyes shining with tears and narrowed in anger, her jaw set firmly. He withdrew his hand quickly and placed it in his lap.

“I don’t want to die,” she said deliberately, with force behind every word.

“I know. Here,” he replied, clearing his throat and handing her the cloth. He didn’t know if it were possible for this situation to get any more uncomfortable for him. He longed to just go back to the barracks and sleep through the night but he couldn’t just…

She took the cloth from him after a moment, then set about cleaning herself. She didn’t say anything else as he spread medi-gel over her wounds, allowing herself to be manipulated like a child’s toy as he fixed her wounds. That just made him feel worse.

He turned away when he gave her the last of the medi-gel packet in order to put some of the thick liquid inside herself. She did so silently.

The last was her underclothes. He nearly got up to leave without giving them to her, but she had seen them and it seemed unnecessarily cruel to leave her unclothed because she simply wanted to live.

“If I untie you, will you fight me?” he asked quietly.

She was silent for a moment, green eyes studying him carefully. Her eyes went to the clothes he had clenched in his talons, and then returned to his face. Finally, she seemed to decide and shook her head. “No,” she said.

He took her wrist and keyed off one of the restraints with his omni-tool. She remained limp. He held out the breast holder to her.

She took it from him and pulled it on without comment. When she was done she offered her wrist again placidly. He pulled the restraint closed again.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice subdued as he went for the hobble in order to remove it, to leave her only bound at her wrists. “Vakarian? I think that’s what that other turian called you.”

Garrus paused, then nodded. It didn’t matter if she knew, if they were just going to kill her. “Garrus Vakarian,” he replied. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but it’s not really.”

She chuckled at that, a weary but pleasant sound. When he glanced at her face he saw she was giving him a half smile. “Sorry for being terrible to you, Garrus,” she said. He noticed she used his first name with an air of familiarity, but didn’t comment. Instead he picked up the underwear. She obediently gave him each leg in turn so that he could slide them up her legs. Once they were in place she settled back against the wall as he put the hobble aside.

He sat against the far wall and they stared at each other for a moment. He looked away first, plucking uncomfortably at his sleeve and she let out another unexpected laugh.

“God, you’re awkward,” she said. He looked up, surprised, and she smiled, genuinely. “You have no idea what to do with yourself, do you?”

Garrus found he had no answer for her whatsoever. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He really should just leave… he had no idea why he was still here.

“Thank you,” she added when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to talk. Now he gave her a questioning look. “For coming to help me earlier. With those other turians.”

“I didn’t come nearly soon enough,” he pointed out dryly. “Hence the copious amounts of clean-up needed. “

She shook her head. “You still came, that’s what matters.”

He stared at her. “I mean this in the nicest way possible. You’re very strange.”

“You’re strange,” she returned, and there was a bite to her voice now. “You’re being nice to me, more than you should. You even said you wanted to help me, and you don’t seem to have any reason. Why?”

He was taken aback, and he fumbled for what to say for a bit. “Well, I want…” he stopped. She didn’t care to know anything about himself, so why needlessly talk to her about nothing that would concern her.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“Nevermind. You wouldn’t be interested.”

“Try me,” she replied. She leaned back. “Tell me a story, Mr. Vakarian. I don’t have much longer to live.”

 He stared at her, aghast, and she merely stared back solidly. 

He drew in a deep breath and let it out again and forced himself to speak. “I want to be… I guess you’d call them police officers. My father is one too, but I had to enlist first… when I get out of here, though. I want to help people,” this was stupid, he told himself mentally. He was telling this to someone who just had a turian cock up inside of her and his only action had been to make sarcastic remarks until they went away…

“I think you’d be good at it,” she replied.

“… Thank you,” he said, for lack of knowing what else to say.

She tilted her head back, small smile on her face. “I only ever wanted to be in the military,” she said.

“Oh?” Garrus replied.

“Yeah… I had a rough childhood. I joined the Alliance because for the first time in my life I felt like I belonged somewhere. And, hey, I got to see the stars, how cool is that?”

Garrus nodded, and tried not to think of the fact that the stars she had seen before coming here were the last stars she’d ever see.

.


	4. Comfort

.

DAY 3

“Any family?” She asked from where she was munching on her protein bar that he had brought from her pack. The nutrient paste he had brought the day before only went down well because she had been starving, but now that the hunger had abated somewhat the protein bar was far more preferred.

He had taken up sitting across from her, just like he had the day before. He had only looked her over briefly when he had come in, examining her with quick efficiency. He asked how she was doing inside, and she answered truthfully. The medi-gel had done its job, she wasn’t in pain any longer. Now she was just bored and restless from being trapped in a room all day. At least her hands were tied in front of her now, so she could get some sleep and use the toilet without much difficulty. She was grateful and that was partly why she decided to strike up a conversation with her turian visitor, since he seemed reluctant to leave right away anyway.

He looked slightly uncomfortable and slightly curious at the same time. “Some,” he said finally. “My father works for… is a police officer, as I said. I have a sister and a mother as well on our home world. My sister is the pretty one,” his mandibles flared out in a way she was sure was a grin, and she laughed.

She liked him, there was no way around that. If they weren’t enemies and at war they might have actually been friends. She found that thought didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. Hell, for all she knew he’d be the one to put a bullet in her head, but at least she knew he wouldn’t be cruel about it.

“You?” he asked after a moment.

She shrugged. “No family. Well, no parents, at least. I was told they died in a car crash when I was a baby, but who knows. I grew up mostly on the streets.”

The bit of plating above his eye raised and yet again she was shocked at the human-ness of the gesture. “I’m surprised,” he said. “Do humans not have ways to take care of their orphaned children?”

“Oh, they do,” she said with a small shrug. “I was raised by my aunt until I was six or so. She wasn’t very good at taking care of me, and the state took me away from her when she let me wander alone in the neighbourhood one too many times. They put me into foster care – those are other adults that are willing to take care of kids that have no parents. My first foster was great, the next not so much. When I was twelve I ran away and moved in with my boyfriend… that didn’t go so well. I spend a lot of the time on the streets after that. I took any job I could, stole when I had to. Nothing major… I was mostly a mule, and I’d get food and a place to sleep for a few nights when I did a job. I’d take drugs from point a and drop them off at point b… I was good at sneaking around. Really good. I never got caught. Sometimes the government would hunt me down and stick me back in foster care, but I was never there longer than a year.”

He looked mildly distressed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That sounds horrible.”

She shrugged. “Why? I lived, and I’m stronger for it. After I joined the Alliance, I had food and a place to sleep and real friends for the first time in my life. All and all it’s been an amazing three years…” she trailed off as she remembered that some of her friends were very much dead, and here she was as a prisoner with an execution order hanging over her head, pouring out her life story to her enemy. She looked away, studying the far wall. “Anyway.”

His hand twitched where he had it by his side. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said suddenly. “I’m going to get… uhh… attached. To you. If we keep talking.”

She looked back at him and stared at him solidly in the eyes. He looked genuinely distressed. “If the order comes down from whoever is in charge for you to kill me, I expect you to do it, no questions asked,” she said.

He made a face, or rather his mandibles moved up and down and his brow plates curved inward. “I’d do it, of course, but don’t think I’d enjoy that very much,” he said.

She frowned. “I have no illusions of what you are and what I am.” She held up her bound wrists. “Fact of the matter is, I’m bored as hell and scared of what the future holds. Talking to you is a temporary reprieve from that.”

He seemed to settle at that, sitting back against the wall.

“New subject of conversation?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“Nineteen,” he said.

“Holy crap,” she exclaimed. “I never would have pegged you for that young!”

He shrugged. “I joined the military when I was fifteen. All turians do.”

“Women as well?” she realized she had never seen a female turian in any of her training videos.

He chuckled. “Women usually fight _behind_ the lines. Men are on the front lines, you won’t see many women this far out. We keep them… ahhh, _close_ to the homeworld.”

“Wow, that’s sexist,” she said.

He cocked his head to the side. “Not intentionally. And not all the time. There are many strong turian women, even out here… there was this one on the last ship I served on…” his voice faded out.

She smiled. “That sounds like an interesting story,” she said, and raised her eyebrows.

“Maybe later,” he said with a flash of his mandibles. “How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?” she returned.

“I… your skin is smooth and there are no wrinkles. I have no real way of knowing with humans, but… my age?” he threw out a guess.

“Close,” she replied. “I’m twenty one. We’re only allowed to join the military at eighteen though, which means you have more experience than I.”

He raised his eyebrow ridges. “You’re old. Older than I expected at least.”

“You’re mean,” she replied and frowned at him playfully.

“Oh, don’t tell me humans are sensitive about their _ages_.” He sounded incredulous now.

“And turians aren’t?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“No,” he replied. “If anything we gain more respect with age.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure I can accept this terrible cultural difference.”

He actually laughed out loud at that, and she felt proud of herself.

.

DAY 4

“Favorite hobby?” She smirked up at him from between wet clumps of hair. She had tried to clean herself in the sink just a short hour ago… she had no soap but that didn’t stop her from getting water all over as she scrubbed the grime from her hair and the medi-gel residue from her skin. Her underwear was still wet because she scrubbed them as well, but they were drying against her skin. The only thing she hadn’t been able to scrub was her bra, because she had no idea how to get it off and on again while bound at the wrists.

He was sitting in his favorite place, across from her and beside the sink. He gave her a surprised look, then blinked and tilted his head back, examining the ceiling. “Well,” he said, his voice an amused drawl. “I always wanted to learn to paint, but, sadly, turian schools aren’t exactly _big_ on the arts.”

She did laugh out loud at that. “So what did you do instead?” she asked.

“Well, when I get the chance I enjoy calibrating the guns on whatever ship I’m on. It’s kind of an… _obsessive_ habit of mine. I love it when I can get just that little bit of remaining power out of whatever machine I have in front of me.”

The smile on her face didn’t fade. “So you’re a perfectionist.”

He made another face. “I just like it when everything works properly,” he shook his head slightly, then looked back at her. “Your turn.”

She shrugged and leaned back. “Running,” she said finally. “When the government forced me back into foster they’d also make me go back to school. I’d always get recruited into track. I was fast and I loved it. I loved how free it made me feel. I could run for hours. Sometimes I did. I’d end up in a completely different part of the city and then I’d have to worry about how the hell I would get back again.”

He chuckled and she added another point to the ‘amuse the turian’ scoreboard she had going on in her head.

.

DAY 5

The food packets had a lingering after-smell to them that made her wrinkle her nose. It took her a few moments to figure it out. “My food ran out,” she said quietly as she opened the packet and tried to keep her churning stomach from revolting as she ate it.

He nodded slowly. “I had to go out and, um. Procure more.”

“You left them to _rot_?” the same lick of rage she had felt on her first day when she had been captured and interrogated came back to her.

He was nervous, shifting a lot more than usual. She realized that she should back off but… she was angry as hell. She tried to force herself to calm down as he continued to talk.

“They were lined up and covered with blankets,” he said finally. “They… we took their weapons away, but not their packs. There wasn’t anything useful in them, anyway. I had to find your food in them.”

“You could have gone back to my ship,” she said. He wasn’t doing so well with the twitching and refusing to look at her, both of which were a bad sign. They were dead, nothing much could change that now, and he was here now… she drew a deep breath.

“Your ship was another hour or so walk away,” he said. He shifted on his feet. “I wanted you to eat today.”

Her rage faded almost as fast as it had come as his words set in. He had poked through a pile of rotting corpses… in order to bring her _food_. Now she felt… it was hard to say. Pity for him, and gratefulness.

“What happens when this food runs out?” she asked.

He sighed and seemed to relax, settling down against the wall where he usually sat. “I suppose I get permission to go to your ship and get your food out of there.”

She frowned. “It’s been five days,” she pointed out. “I’m surprised this is even an issue. Why, exactly, am I still alive again?”

“You ask that every day,” he chided her gently.

“I will until I get an answer.”

He sighed. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I asked before I left to get you food today. The Hierarchy is stalling, and we have no idea why. Even my CO is confused. Either way, you need to live until we get orders, and I’m still in charge of taking care of you. I don’t think anyone else wants the job, to be honest.”

“Well, thanks for that, I guess,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” his voice was wry. He paused. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

“About what?” she replied as she finished her packets and deliberately went over to the door to place them by there. He usually took the trash out every night, this was something she definitely wanted him to take. If he didn’t, that slight smell would stink up the entire cell by the time she was ready to sleep.

“Your squad.”

She shrugged. “It’ll just make me angry.”

“You’re allowed to feel angry,” he replied.

“You don’t have to take one for the team,” she said. This time when she came back over she sat beside him. Not close enough that they were touching, but still beside him. It would help if she didn’t have to look at him directly.

She drew in a deep breath and began. “A lot of them I just met on this mission. I liked them, they were good people. One of them though… his name was Jimmy. I knew him in basic,” she stared off into a corner of the cell, her eyes a million miles away. “He was… we were kind of together. I mean, we fooled around from time to time, but he was… more than that. He was a good friend,” she sighed. “I saw him… I saw him go down,” there was a lump in her throat now, and she swallowed past it. “Right after I was shot. Someone got him right between the eyes. Clean shot. Guess…” she stopped and started again. “Guess I should be grateful he didn’t suffer, huh?”

He went absolutely still and silent for a very long time. The silence continued so long that she swam up through her misery and turned her head to look at him. Garrus was studying his hands where they were folded very neatly in his lap.

She stared at him.

He finally looked up and met her gaze. “I’m a sniper,” he said softly.

It clicked and she felt her stomach bottom out. Of course he was. OF COURSE HE WAS. He was the one who found her, the first turian on the field. She hadn’t seen anyone else. The shock left and the rage boiled up before she could stop it.

“Fuck you!” she screamed. She attacked him, for what little good it did with her hands bound together. “You killed Jimmy! I’ll kill you, _I’LL KILL YOU!_ ”

He didn’t reply, even as she used both her fists to hammer against his front plates and even tried to slam her forehead against his own. He dodged that one. It took a moment for her head to clear enough to realize he was merely holding her away from himself, one hand grasping one of her wrists to prevent her from hitting him, the other pressed against her stomach to keep her off. His expression didn’t change at all, though his eyes were clear as he looked up at her.

She was crying, she realized dully, as conscious awareness came flooding back to her. All the fight left her and she went limp against his hold and closed her eyes. Sobs robbed her of her remaining strength.

He removed the hand holding her back and she slumped down against him. He made an odd hmming sound with his dual-toned voice and let go of her wrist as well. She didn’t move, just continued to collapse, deep horrendous sobs that actually hurt wracking her entire body.

He put a tentative arm around her. She didn’t resist, resting her forehead against his shoulder as she curled in on him, eyes tightly shut, refusing to look at him. A hand patted her hair gently, the other arm laid across her back, his eyes focused on the far wall.

Even after she was done crying herself out she didn’t move. He was hard to sit against, all inflexible carapace under his off duty outfit, and he was a turian who she just found out killed one of her best friends. She still couldn’t bring herself to move away from the only comfort she had found in five days of stress and despair. ‘I’m a traitor,’ she thought to herself miserably.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against his cowl after enough time had passed.

“Don’t be,” he replied. His hand left her hair. He got to his feet, bringing her with him. It was now that she was standing right next to him that she realized how much taller he was than her and she felt a small dart of fear go through her.

She shook her head and stepped away. “I didn’t mean to lose control like that. I shouldn’t have.”

“The first time we met you screamed obscenities at me,” he replied and there was amusement in his voice. “I figured we were due for another round.” He raised a hand and it hovered above her cheek. After a pause she gave in and closed her eyes, pressing in against that hand. His palm was warm and smoother than expected against her skin.

Something tentatively hopeful blossomed inside her chest. It frightened her a little. She reached up, and touched his hand, carefully holding it to the side of her face. They remained like that for several seconds. “What is this?” she asked in a low voice as she opened her eyes to gaze up at him.

She didn’t expect his reaction. He blinked and seemed to almost start, then jerked his hand away. “Now _I’m_ the one who’s sorry,” he said, and he sounded distressed, his voice going out of sync more than it usually did.

She straightened and dropped her hand, blinking up at him. “Don’t be,” she said, repeating his words back at him.

“No, you don’t understand. I shouldn’t have done that,” he took a step away from her.

She held her hands up. “Hey, wait a second here,” she said, slightly confused at his overreaction. “You just were trying to comfort me, I get that. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s _everything_ wrong with that,” he spat and for the first time she could hear anger in his voice. “You’re a _human_ ,” he pressed a hand to his forehead and shook his head. “I have to go,” he said.

He only just barely managed to pick up the empty nutrition packets before leaving the room, ignoring her “wait!” as he went.

.

DAY 6

He stood at the door, looking uncertain as he looked at her. There were two food packets in his hand.

 “Didn’t think you’d be back,” she said, keeping her gaze lowered. “After yesterday.”

He scoffed at her words. “After a conversation I started,” the sarcasm was heavy. “After you found out I shot your boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t my… never mind,” she didn’t want to fight about it, or talk about it at all. Instead she shook her head and held out her hands. He dropped the food packets into them. After a moment he settled down in his regular spot next to the sink and she felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She hadn’t slept very well the night before. She couldn’t help but to wonder if she had managed to scare off her only source of conversation or food… her only source of _sanity_. She had been plagued by nightmares of starving to death, completely ignored by the only turian who gave a shit whether she lived or died. She kept her gaze lowered as she ate. “Thanks for coming back.”

He was quiet when he spoke. “I’m not going to just leave you here,” he said. “Even if they were to take me off of human caretaking duty, I’ll find a way to, ah, end your life. So you don’t slowly waste away. I wouldn’t wish _that_ on my worst enemy.”

“Which I am,” she pointed out.

“No,” he replied. “Well, I mean, yes, humans in _general_ are. But you’re not the same, you’re a tangible individual person, not a threat, and certainly not my enemy. Humans might be our… current nemesis, but YOU… you’re just an unfortunate alien in an unfortunate situation.”

She looked up at him now and he returned her look with one of his own, serious and unwavering. She smiled her relief and ducked her head. He wasn’t angry. She hated being weak, but the fact of the matter was she depended on him right now and his words meant a lot to her.

.

They more sat in companionable silence rather than speaking that evening. After a while he stood with a sigh and went to pick up her empty food packets. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he reassured her.

She nodded and he flicked his mandibles down in a way she now knew was a smile.

That was when it happened.

Something rocked the building, so hard it shook violently. She let out a cry as she went down on an elbow, and he braced, stumbling a bit himself.

Artillery strike, it definitely felt like one. Another happened, and this time the ceiling cracked, a light dusting from above raining down on them.

He was instantly on alert, a finger pressed to the side of his face. She could hear the tinny sounds of voices, though none of them were loud enough for her to hear their words.

He removed his hand after a moment. “We’re under attack,” he said briskly.

“Humans?” she replied, sudden fear coursing through her. If humans were attacking her life was forfeit. They wouldn’t wait, they’d put a bullet in her head here and now.

“No. Pirates. Probably. I need to go.” He took a step towards the door when a third strike hit. He stumbled.

“Wait!” she cried out, scrambling to her feet. “Don’t leave me here like this!” she held up her bound wrists.

He cursed under his breath and turned back to her. He grabbed her wrist faster than she expected and pulled up his omni-tool, talons flying over the display. A second or so later the wrist restraint dropped away. He pushed her away with incredible strength. She hit the far wall so hard it knocked the breath out of her and she fell forwards, only managing to catch herself at the last moment with her now freed hands.

“Anything comes through that door, ANYTHING at all, turian or no, attack it,” he ordered. “Fight for your life.” With that he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him before she could get to it. She sunk to her knees in front of the door and cursed, pounding at it with her fists, then flinched and drew back as a forth strike made the entire room rock.

.


	5. Attack

.

The hallway was in worse shape than her cell. Parts of it were collapsed entirely and he had to pick his way through rubble. The emergency lights were on, casting the entire place in an eerie glow. At the same time he kept listening to his ear piece. The static from it worried him. Was it possible he was the only one left in the entire garrison? He felt dull panic and a feeling of loss well up inside him.

He also realized it was probably true. He was on the lowest level of the base. There was so much damage he was having trouble navigating the hallway, let alone finding his way to where the exit was... he stopped abruptly when he came to it, reaching out to press his hands against the slough of rubble in front of him. The exit to the upper halls was completely blocked.

He turned about, peering back the way he had come. At the same time he could hear in his earpiece a set of voices that were too far away to be wearing a headset, but close enough that they could be right beside it.

“Is that all of them?” the first voice asked. It was deep, rumbling and he recognized it instantly as krogan.

Garrus froze. Shit.

“Looks like. The lower levels are blocked off, we’re trying to get through. Might be more down there,” was the reply. Another krogan.

Damn it. Damn it! Mercenaries then, or a well organized pirate group, one or the other. He had no reason to believe they weren’t telling the truth. The base was a small one, it was after hours, and, if they were hit from orbit, then had a large enough landing party, nothing would remain of the barracks or the night patrol…

Garrus instantly started to problem solve. There was an exit, on the other side of the long, twisting, rubble-filled hall. Being trapped in a level they couldn’t access, at least not right away, would buy him some time to get out. Not much time, however, and that depended on if the outside exit was blocked. He wasn’t armed, he wasn’t wearing anything that could pass as armor; for all intents and purposes he was naked as the day he was born in an extremely hostile situation…

He thought of something else. Shepard. The human prisoner… he’d undone her restraints in a moment of weakness, but she wouldn’t stand a chance against a krogan, let alone an armed one. He had to get her out.

He hesitated. If a higher ranking soldier was still alive and they found out he released her without orders to do so he’d be heavily reprimanded, with a slight possibility of being demoted and ejected from the military.

Still… the alternative was leaving her to die.

He was also right beside the locker room.

He decided. She’d be angry, she’d probably attack him, but if he managed to get her to the exit perhaps she’d take off into the woods and he’d be able to go about assessing the situation he was in with a clear conscience, knowing he didn’t leave her to be ripped apart by a krogan. He pushed aside the thought that told him he was going to let her go because he liked her. He was doing it because it was _fair_.

His omni-tool opened the door to the locker room and he stepped inside. Some of the lockers had toppled, their contents spilling across the floor. He picked up her pack first, shouldering it. It had her food inside. Food, that reminded him…

He got his own pack, tossing out things he didn’t need. A quick glance across the floor revealed that a couple of his fellow soldiers had snacks hidden away down here. Some ration bars as well as some treats for special occasions. He stuffed as much as he could into his own pack. He’d need those if they… if _he_ were to escape the base and spend any amount of time outside. He then grabbed an extra blanket, stuffing that into his own pack as well. Last he scooped up her ripped lightweave armor and boots.

He was as quiet as he could be as he picked his way down the hall again, feeling extremely disadvantaged without a weapon of some sort. They kept all the weapons in the armory on the top floor, which seemed like a very bad idea in retrospect. He reached her room in no time at all and remembered at the last second that he had ordered her to attack anything that came into the room. He rapped on the door.

“Shepard,” he said, keeping his voice low. “It’s me, Garrus. I’m going to open the door. I’d prefer it if you didn’t try to kill me.”

“Get in here,” she snapped back after a pause, sounding frustrated and angry.

He grinned despite himself and let himself in.

She stood in the center of the cell, fists raised. She dropped them the moment she saw he was who he said he was. “Here,” he said, dropping her pack and her clothes at her feet.

“What happened?” she asked as she began pulling on her armor. Sure enough the sleeve was still ripped wide open and stained brown with old blood, but the rest of the outfit looked functional.

“Attacked by mercenaries. I think,” he said. “I’m not sure why they’re here or what they want. All I know is I might be the last one left.”

She stared at him incredulously as she tied up her boots. “Everyone’s dead?” she asked.

“Everyone, as far as I know,” he replied. “If I hadn’t been in here with you…” he trailed off.

“Shit,” she swore. “Any idea how many hostiles?”

“Unknown,” he replied. “I need to get us out of here. There’s a back exit on this level,” he paused as he watched her adjust her armor and shoulder her pack. “I’m letting you go.”

She visibly stilled as she seemed to consider that, then looked up at him, her jaw set. “I’m coming with you.”

“I…” he didn’t know what to make of that.

“Alone on a hostile planet full of aliens that want to kill you, and probably me as well?” she continued. “No thanks. I go where you go.”

“If I’m not the only turian left you’ll be recaptured,” he warned.

“When you have a base full of hostiles? I highly doubt I’ll be your first priority,” she replied, her voice holding no room for argument. Her eyes told him a different story. He was fairly sure there was fear of being left alone there, but she was doing a valiant job of covering it.

“Fine,” he replied, his voice clipped. He didn’t have time to argue with her anyway.

She nodded, relaxing slightly. “Thanks,” she said. “Lead the way,” she added.

.

They made their way down the hallway, him in the lead, her behind. They stopped suddenly when they got to a part of the hall that contained a huge chunk of ceiling, allowing them to see up at least two stories above. He realized that he might actually be able to see the night sky up above that, meaning that this was one of the places where a missile had punched through.

He was about to walk over the rubble when two voices drifted into earshot. It sounded like they were coming from two or three levels up. He stopped cold and pulled her against him in the shadows of one of the walls.

She remained like that, his talon against the side of her face in a ‘shh’ gesture. He could feel her heart beating where she was up against him. Her eyes were bright, narrowed, and she was listening.

Garrus heard the voices, distantly. “Krogan,” he said, so softly he wondered if she could actually hear him. “Vorcha. Scum of the galaxy.”

One of them walked by the hole and suddenly their voice was so much louder than before. “I killed one of them,” he was bragging in a high pitched grating voice. “Broke off that silly fringe he had on the back of his head. You shoulda heard his screams, heh, heh, heh.”

Garrus flinched despite himself, something she noticed, he could tell because she shifted enough to look up at his fringe. “They don’t seem to like your kind very much,” she whispered.

“They’ll gut anyone they can find,” Garrus whispered back. “Me, you, anyone.” He paused. “Well… _you_ they might sell into slavery. I’m dead. Can’t teach a turian new tricks, I think is how the saying goes.”

“Ugh,” she replied. She stepped forward, eyes wary as she looked up at the hole in the ceiling. She stood completely still until the voices faded out again. “Let’s go.”

.

They navigated their way over the large chunk of ceiling, eyes trained up above, watching for any movement. He stopped holding his breath once they were clear, and could continue down the halls and away from the giant hole.

She saw it before he did.

Another turian. He was also half buried beneath a pile of ceiling rubble and it took him a moment to realize he had fallen though from up above. He knew him vaguely, he was in one of the other squads, and he couldn’t help the low mournful sound that welled up from his throat.

“Oh,” she said softly, and approached him. Garrus watched her go, only realizing at the last second that that might have been a mistake.

She crouched down and stood up again, a turian rifle in her hands. She swung around, seemed surprised for a moment, then suddenly her teeth clenched in rage. Everything about the way she was holding that weapon told him she absolutely knew what to do with it.

Garrus stopped cold.

Damn it! He should have seen this coming. He should have… he brought his hands up to protect his face, even though he knew that at this range it was futile… she could blow a sizeable hole right through him and his arms, and his clothes, and  she looked ready as hell to pull the trigger.

When she didn’t shoot he uncurled slowly. “Look. I know you’re upset,” he said, taking time with his words, keeping his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “But you don’t have to do this…”

She let out a snarling sound that ended in an odd little scream. The rifle in her hands jerked. Garrus stood, stunned for a short moment, until he realized he was still standing. He turned so quickly his head spun just in time to see a varren slump to the floor halfway down the corridor from them.

Garrus couldn’t help the low sound of appreciation that welled up from his throat. “Nice shot,” he said as he turned back to her.

She raised an eyebrow at him, the muzzle of the weapon lowered now. “What was that thing?” she asked.

“Varren. It’s a common krogan pet,” he replied. “They’re trained to kill. Probably a good thing you shot it.”

“I see,” she said. “Here,” she added, refreshing the weapon before holding it out to him. “Not really my thing,” she added as she crouched down and scooped up a pistol with her free hand.

Garrus stepped forward slowly, carefully, still acutely aware that she could still shoot him. She gave him an inquisitive look and gestured with the rifle again. “Here, take it,” she said, sounding impatient now.

“Thank you,” Garrus said finally when he managed to convince himself to speak again. “You’re not going to... ah…” he took the rifle. “You’re not angry,” he said finally, his voice low.

She gave him a look like he was stupid now. “Of course I’m angry,” she replied, her voice biting. “But I told you I’m coming with you. I’m not going to just blow away the only ally I might have in this entire solar system,” she took a wary step back suddenly, holding the pistol slightly raised and at her side, at ready. “Unless you feel differently.” There was a definite threat in her voice.

“I came and got you out,” Garrus said dryly, shouldering the rifle in a show of faith. He put his hands up again in a placating gesture, then sighed. “As long as we’re still in this situation I’d say you’re probably right,” he admitted. “Two soldiers are better than one.”

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, before she broke into a half smile. “Yeah,” she said. She strapped up and holstered the pistol. “So, big guy, I imagine someone is going to get down here the same way that thing did,” she pointed at the varren. “They’re probably on their way if they heard that rifle shot. What’s the plan?”

Garrus drew a breath. “Well, luckily, we’re close to that exit,” he began to move again, towards it. “If anything starts chasing us, run like hell.”

She grinned at him and he wondered at that. Maybe she found him funny. He supposed the addition of a weapon to her situation made her feel better. Her smile quickly faded as she focused on the hall in front of them, taking the lead, pistol at ready.

She was a natural leader, he realized. He took out the rifle as well and followed her, eyes narrowed as they walked through the dusty and occasionally broken hall. The emergency lights flickering up above them as they went. They were going to lose back up power soon. Luckily the rifle he held had a small light on it, if they needed it.

The damage here was far less extensive, the closer they got to the exit.

He couldn’t help the sigh of relief when it came into view. It wasn’t damaged at all, but the panel showed red, which meant the security protocols had been shorted. He should be able to hack it open. “Stay close,” he whispered as he went up to the door. “We have no idea what will greet us on the other side of that door.”

She nodded. “Do it,” she whispered back, her green eyes darting from him to the door and back again.

He manipulated the lock, overrode the power supply and pressed in the code. The heavy door hesitated for a moment, then swung open, revealing the chilly night air of Kruljaven. They both instantly dodged to the side, out of the light, and he found himself pressed against her yet again. They both stood as quietly as possible. The door slid closed again, leaving them in darkness and what little light given by the dual moons above.

She was standing against his side, in front of him slightly, her left foot hooked behind his ankle and pistol at ready. He didn’t think it was on purpose, but the gesture was comforting. It said she had his back, which was miraculous, given their history. He didn’t know why she wasn’t running for the trees screaming by now, despite her words. Then again, she was a soldier, just like him. It made tactical sense to stick together.

They stood still long enough to allow their eyes to adjust to the light. She moved away first, though stayed close enough to speak without raising her voice. “Looks clear,” she said, peering into the darkness with narrowed eyes. “What now.”

“Head for the trees,” he replied. “Regroup there, decide our next course of action.”

“Agreed,” she said, moving away from him completely and stepping towards the dark wall of foliage. “Move out.”

 He wondered that he was suddenly taking orders from a human who had just been his prisoner, but then mentally shrugged. She knew how to command. Shocking, as she had said this was her second mission. Still, he had to hand it to the humans, they sure seemed to know how to make soldiers.

.

It was only a couple degrees above freezing, he noticed unhappily as they walked through the woods. The light from his rifle barely showed anything, and they had to stop several times to negotiate their way through the trees. Still, he was determined to put at least a little ground between them and the base, stopping only after they had walked for a good hour.

“Turians don’t like the cold, Shepard,” he intoned lightly.

“Yeah, humans don’t either,” she muttered.

He turned around to face her, shining the light in her direction. “You’re shaking,” he said, surprised. He hadn’t noticed because he had taken the lead, but now that he did he saw her teeth were clattering together as well.

“Shivering. Automatic reflex, brought on by prolonged exposure to lower t-temperatures,” she managed to get out, between the clattering. She looked up at him. “Think we’re should stop and find shelter for the night?”

“Yes.” He skimmed their current surroundings, shining the light from his rifle this way and that. He finally focused on a rock half buried by low hanging foliage. Any enemy who tried to find them would have to duck pretty low to see them. “Over there,” he said.

She saw where he was pointing his light and nodded. He shone the light so that she could duck and climb down next to the rock, then followed her after a moment.

She was still shivering, and, as he watched, she started to dig through her pack. “Shit,” she said after a moment.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I had an emergency blanket in here,” she replied. “But it’s gone.”

“Ah,” he said. There was a chance his CO had dumped all of the unnecessary things out of her pack except for her food. He told her as much.

“Nothing much we can do about it now,” she replied. She glanced around, then started to pick up handfuls of leaves and dirt, piling it in a corner. He figured out she was building some sort of nest after watching her for a moment.

“No, stop,” he said as he settled in next to her. He reached out and touched her arm to still her. “I have a blanket.”

“You do?” she stopped picking up leaves and wiped her hands off on the sides of her armor.

He pulled it out, and handed it to her. She went to pull it over her shoulders, then stopped.

“You said you were cold as well,” she said.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.”

She scoffed at that. “Don’t be an idiot,” she pulled the blanket off of herself and wrapped it over his shoulders.

“What about you… ah,” he figured it out when she sat beside him, and pulled the blanket over her shoulders as well. She pressed up against his arm and he could feel the tremors that wracked her small human body. She wasn’t like a turian at all, they got sluggish in the cold… just walking became a chore. If he sat out here without a blanket he’d barely be able to move by dawn, if the cold wasn’t enough to cause him to go into cardiac arrest. Hopefully by then the sunlight would raise the temperature enough that he’d be able to recover…

“I don’t care if you’re a turian,” she said quietly. “Two are better than one when it comes to sharing body heat in the cold.”

He tried not to feel embarrassed. She obviously didn’t care about personal space, and it didn’t really matter when it came to surviving the night. “Do you mind if I… try to reposition us?” he asked after feeling her tremble against his side for a couple minutes. She wasn’t going to get warm enough there.

“Sure,” she said from between clenched teeth.

“Tell me if this makes you feel uncomfortable,” he said. He leaned back against the rock where it met the tree, wedging himself in such a way that he couldn’t roll to either side. He could easily sleep like this. He spread his legs and made a motion to her, holding the blanket open in his hands.

She got it, after a couple seconds of staring with incomprehension. She climbed onto his lap without hesitation, sitting on the ground and curling up against his chest. He wrapped the blanket around them both. She caught one of the ends with a hand and cinched it tightly over her shoulders.

“You’re hard, but you’re warm,” she mumbled against the outside of his cowl. She shivered and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Dun care about the hard part right now,” she added.

He made a little noise of agreement.

She wasn’t as warm, her size made it harder to get anything from her in the way of heat. Even so, with a blanket about his shoulders and her pressed against his chest the cold was… tolerable. He put his arms around her cautiously, and she didn’t even flinch or tense. He breathed slowly, settling a taloned hand on her hip. (He didn’t tell her, but he had blunted his talons the second day he was in charge of taking care of her. He didn’t want to accidentally leave huge gouges in her hide if she attacked him again.)

She made a humming sound of appreciation? Maybe? He flexed his arm, drawing her as close as he could. She didn’t resist, if anything she seemed to burrow in against him.

His heartrate sped up as he unexpectedly reacted to her closeness, to the warmth of her exhale against the outside of his cowl. No. He shook his head slightly to chase the thoughts away. He didn’t need those thoughts, especially not _now_.

Truth was, he felt very protective of her, and he was sure that was why he was reacting the way he was. He wanted to take care of her. But then, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, he was sure if she hadn’t been in a cell for the last five days she would have found a way to break into the base and pick off a great deal of them before someone took her out. She was dangerous, potentially lethal, and his enemy…

And here she was, in his lap, depending on him like he depended on her.

He liked her, he had _feelings_ for her, it was one of the reasons why he had decided to let her go when he should have left her in that cell. He had actually felt a sliver of jealously towards that boyfriend she had, the one he shot, and that was something that distressed him greatly.

Just the thought of liking her, that way, made dull panic rise up inside him. He had never found humans to be attractive. Never. So why did he like this one? The one who had been sexually abused by turians only four short days before.

She would shoot him if she knew he was even entertaining the thought that they might be able to be together like that as well.

 He had to make sure she never found out.

.


	6. Trust

.

She slept, sort of, drifting in and out of consciousness. She was still a little bit cold; he was warm but her feet and the side of her face were not, and if she desperately didn’t need some shut eye she’d have taken up jogging about the place to warm up.

It was night and they were in an unknown forest on an unknown planet with hostiles a mere hour’s walk away. That was probably why she kept on jerking awake, all of her senses on alert.

He slept… or at least she was pretty sure he did, occasionally she noticed his bright eyes were closed in the darkness. He was warmer than her by a couple of degrees and she found herself crowding up against him as much as possible, leeching off of whatever body heat she could get.

She sat awake as he slept, as the sun rose slowly, turning the sky pink and orange. She wondered at the predicament she was currently in. He had his arms around her, protective, caring. Despite their terrible first time meeting and again when she tried to escape, he had been nothing but gentle with her, and it was doing something screwy to her insides. She remembered the way he had pressed his hand to her face, carefully, like she was something precious, even though she was a prisoner. She also remembered how he had reacted… it was obvious he liked her, and everything from letting her go instead of leaving her to die to cuddling together for warmth pretty much confirmed that.

She moved, just slightly, so that she could see his face. She still had that jolt – that disconnect in her head when she saw him. Her brain was still thinking “oh god, a turian”. Then again, she’d correct herself to think “oh, it’s just Garrus,” very quickly. The dart of fear would be replaced with intense relief. _This_ turian wouldn’t hurt her. _This_ turian was kind and held her while she sobbed wretchedly from overwhelming stress and strain. _This_ turian had seen her at her absolute worst and still cared enough to try to save her.

She realized she was walking a dangerous line. If any other turian was still alive and higher ranking than him, he could be ordered to kill her, and she had no doubt that he’d do it. He had a pragmatic streak in him that saw things in black or white, they all did, or so the vids said, and his loyalty to his people would come first. It was why they made such piss-poor prisoners, or so she’d been told. They never confessed anything, and were stoic to the point of stupidity.

She’d like to pretend he’d regret it, if he were ordered to shoot her, and maybe he would, but at the end of the day her life didn’t matter to him as much as his duty. That was what she had to remember. He was a turian. He was still _dangerous_.

It was the same for her really, though the thought that the Alliance might show up and order her to kill him made her guts twist with dismay. She’d probably regret it a little bit more than he would.

Out here, while huddled together for warmth as the last of their kind on the planet, it was easy to just… _pretend_. Pretend they weren’t enemies, pretend the war didn’t exist.

His eyes remained closed, even as she looked at him, and she gave in to temptation. She unwrapped her hand from the blanket and reached up, hesitating only a moment before carefully touching one of his mandibles. She slid her fingers along it, it felt like bone, smooth in places, slightly rough in others. She moved her hand further up, tracing the blue paint, to the sweeping external cheekbone that extended out from the side of his face.

He opened his eyes, blinked a couple times in the morning light. She drew her hand back a couple of inches, and waited for his reaction. To her surprise he let out a little nonsensical growling noise and turned his head, nuzzling her palm, sliding his beak? along it. That lasted about half a second until he drew back again with a little start. He eyed her warily instead and she dropped her hand with a sigh. Whatever _that_ was, it was over now.

“Good morning,” she said, and got up out of the blanket.

“ There is nothing good about this morning,” he replied. His breathing left puffs of white on the cold morning air and as she watched he drew the blanket closed and hunched in on himself. “Who decided on these sleeping arraignments, I wish to complain,” he grumbled.

She smirked at him.

His pale blue eyes watched her as she stretched and started jogging in the spot to get some of her blood circulating again. When she was done that she found her pack from the day before and took out a couple of food packets, eating them quickly. He didn’t know, but the two packets a day he was bringing her before were only enough to keep her from starving. If she wanted to be in top shape for whatever the day would bring she’d have to double her intake. Luckily there seemed to be quite a lot in her pack.

“I need to go,” she announced, as he finally got up, moving as slow as molasses as he went about eating something out of his own pack. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” He gave her a curious look, then nodded.

.

They peered over the ridge, still covered by the trees.

She could instantly see it was a disaster. The base was a blackened hole in the ground. The entire front of the base was crawling with whoever they were… soldiers or mercenaries or maybe even pirates. To make matters worse, she could see a couple turian vessels off to the side, and both of them had sizable holes in them, blackened marks indicating they had been taken out from an orbital strike. Whoever these people were, they hadn’t wanted any survivors.

“I think this is a lost cause,” she whispered at him after a long moment. “No one’s coming out of that alive. Well, except us.”

He nodded reluctantly and she noticed how his fingers tightened on his rifle.

“Hey,” she shook her head. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. We have about sixteen rounds between the two of us, and I can count more than sixteen of them down there. We need to get out of here.”

He let out a low growl, then pushed away, getting up and moving back into the forest. She followed him.

“You’re right about being outnumbered and outgunned,” he muttered after a second. “But… I need to get back in there and fight. They can’t be allowed to get away with this.”

She hesitated, then reached out towards him. “I get that,” she said consolingly. “I do. But we’re only two people, and we’re kind of low on weapons and armor,” she looked him over, still dressed from head to toe in some sort of either light armor, or more likely civilian off-duty clothes. “We need a way to either send a distress call they won’t pick up on,” she nodded her head towards the overrun base. “Or get the hell off this planet and go for help.”

He lowered his head.

“Is my ship still space worthy?” she asked.

He looked up again, his eyes narrowed as he thought. “I… believe so. We raided it for weapons and disabled the engine, but I think I can get it running again.”

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do that.”

“I…” He hesitated and stood there for a long moment, with his head turned back towards the turian base.

“Garrus, we need to go,” she placed her hand against his arm again, gently, and that seemed to start him out of whatever was going through his head. “You can’t win this one.”

He nodded, and, with one last backward glance, began walking.

.

It took over two hours for them to walk to the Alliance frigate, and he was suspiciously silent the entire way. She didn’t even bother trying to speak to him. She had had six days to adjust to the death of her squad, he had had mere hours to comprehend that he was probably the last turian left alive on the planet, and whatever sense of duty he had was currently screaming at him to go back and avenge his fallen comrades. Her same sense of duty was telling her how wrong it was for her to trust a turian who killed Jimmy and possibly others, but she was also smart enough to know that this guy was her best chance at survival.

He would occasionally use his omni-tool to adjust their path and keep them going in the right direction.

Amazingly, the ship was where they had left it, sitting nestled between trees, with just enough cover that spotting it from above would have been somewhat difficult. He gestured for her to go first and she went in, pistol drawn. It didn’t take her very long to check all the rooms. The ship was small, the top floor contained the showers, crew quarters, small captain’s chambers, the flight deck, and the conference room that doubled as the mess hall. The bottom floor had the small weapons array, the engine room, and the cargo bay that held the airlock. “Clear!” she called out from the top deck, before making her way back down the stairs and joining him in the engine room.

.

They worked together for much of the day. She wasn’t much help, she didn’t know anything about engines, she hadn’t been trained on anything but basic ship functions. She was needed to translate the occasional thing he wasn’t able to figure out by using his omni-tool. She brought him food from his pack when he asked for it, and ate in the mess hall when he said he didn’t need her help right then.

The sun was already getting low when he stepped back with a sigh. “I have somewhat good news and exceptionally bad news,” he said. “Which would you prefer?”

Oh no. That didn’t sound like she’d enjoy either. “Lay it on me,” she replied.

 He shook his head. “The FTL drive has been completely compromised,” he said. “I can get it to work, but it’s going to give us a small burst of power, and burn out within minutes. It’d be good for a quick getaway if we need it, but it’s not going to get us very far and then....” he made a bursting motion with his hands.

She made a face. “So… we turn it on and then we explode?”

“Not exactly. Most I can tell is we’d be adrift in space. Except for… and this is the good news… you seem to have a back-up system,” he turned back to the console and called up a schematic of what looked like an engine. “It’s very primitive, probably why we didn’t find it, or at least didn’t find it worth any notice. It’s completely functional.”

“Does it make us… not explode?” she asked. She thought she was funny.

“It’s an electrostatic ion engine,” he said, and he sounded fascinated. “It’s not much, and it’s far, far slower than a FTL drive, but it’ll get us to a mass relay.”

She nodded slowly. “Wait, slower than FTL… how long are we talking?”

“Long,” he shifted and looked uncomfortable.

“That doesn’t sound good either,” she said. “Better give it to me straight.”

He flared his mandibles at her. “At the top speed I can get out the ion engine, it’ll take at least five days to make it to the mass relay.”

“Oh,” she said, and then shrugged after considering that for a moment. “Five days isn’t that bad. We have enough supplies to get back, if you turians didn’t trash our food,” she paused as he suddenly busied himself with the console in front of him. “… Unless you’re not too keen about hanging out with a human for five days straight.”

“That’s not a concern,” he said, but he didn’t look up.

She raised an eyebrow. “Food then? Do you have enough turian food for a five day space adventure?”

“That’s not a concern either,” he said.

She blinked. Something was wrong. “What then?” she asked, almost nervous now.

He changed the subject. “I’ve programmed the flight plan to the mass relay, and the co-ordinates for your relay jump. It’ll take you to the, uh,” he consulted the console. “Utopia system in the Exodus cluster. I know that relay is fairly close to one of your colonies there, you should reach it in a day or two and find help there.”

“Okay?” she replied, a question remaining in her voice. He turned away from the console, left the room and walked to the airlock, opening it up. He stood there by the open hatch, peering off into the woods.

“We should leave as soon as possible,” she said tentatively as she approached him from behind. This not looking at her and now being quiet… that worried her.

He bowed his head for a moment, then raised it again and shook it. “I’m not going with you,” he said. He turned back and looked at her solemnly. “I’m glad we met, Shepard. Maybe one day this war will end and we’ll meet again.”

“Wait, what?” she exclaimed, but he was already gone, hoping down to the ground on his weird foot toes. She ran for the exit, just in time to see him jog into the trees.

She cursed under her breath. What was he going to do, commit suicide by going on a vengeance spree against that gang of mercenaries? As soon as she thought it she realized that he probably was.

Of course he was. She resisted the urge to throw her hands in the air in exasperation. He had ten rounds in that sniper rifle, tops. How the hell was he going to do anything with that?

“Vakarian!” she called out. “Damn it, come back here!” she scrambled out of the airlock, and blinked in the sunlight that framed her where she stood in the middle of the meadow. She balled her hands into fists. “I’m not leaving without you!” she yelled.

There was no response. She cursed again and started jogging towards the trees in the direction she saw him leave in.

She noticed the red dot before she made it very far. She glanced down at her chest and then looked back up again, her eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to shoot me,” she said very firmly. He wouldn’t have kept her alive this long and fix her ship to just shoot her, at least she didn’t think he would. Still, she didn’t move, just in case a step forward caused him to pull the trigger. She had a sudden sinking thought that he *could* just shoot her and take the ship. He wouldn’t do that, would he?

“Get back in the ship, Shepard,” his voice drifted out from the trees. She nearly heaved a sigh of relief when she heard his voice. She raised her head slightly and focused on where he would be if she could actually see him.

“Come with me,” she replied, keeping her voice low and as persuasive as she could make it. “Don’t go killing yourself out of vengeance. Who else is going to tell people what happened here, huh?”

“You are,” was the reply. “Get back in there.”

“Not a chance.” She returned.

There was silence.

“Come out, Garrus,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s talk about this,” she paused then made a hand gesture to her chest. “And maybe you can stop pointing a gun at me.”

There was another pause and then she thought she could hear him growl something under his breath. The red dot left. He stepped out from behind the trees a moment later, strolling towards her slowly, rifle still in hand. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, his words short and clipped. “What happens to me when you get back to Alliance space? I’d be your prisoner. I won’t let that happen.”

She blinked. She hadn’t really thought much beyond getting off the planet, or rather she didn’t think of what would happen to _him_. “We go to a neutral system and get help there,” she said. “I find my people, you find yours.”

“A place like that doesn’t exist!” he snapped. “We’re at WAR. That,” he pointed. “Is an Alliance frigate. There is NO place on that ship for me.”

“I could drop you off on a turian planet!” she shouted back at him.

“And risk them blowing you out of the sky before you could land in an enemy ship?” he shook his head. “No, Shepard, there is no way to solve this one. You’re going, I’m staying. Maybe,” she could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Maybe they’ll clear out in a couple days and I can find a way to send out a distress signal.”

 “If you go back there _you’re going to die_ ,” she balled her hands up in frustration.

He glared at her. “Better that then die by Alliance hands. Or worse, dissected by Alliance scientists,” he returned.

“Is that what you think we do to turian prisoners?” she exclaimed, appalled. She knew they had prisoners from time to time, but the Alliance never mentioned anything about experiments.

“Do you think they keep us alive somewhere? Somehow? They don’t even know where to find food that doesn’t make us sick.”

 She shook her head in a sharp negative. “I don’t want to argue,” she snapped. “Give me a damn solution, because I’m not leaving without you and I’m not letting you get shot, or dissected, or whatever you think is going to happen to you.”

“You’re not listening to me,” he ground out. “There is _no place_ we can go where we’d both be safe-“ he stopped abruptly.

She folded her arms across her chest. “I sure hope that was an idea,” she said.

“The Citadel,” he spoke slowly. “My father works there. I think he mentioned, last we spoke, that there was a human ambassador on the station. That means there’s human ships…” his eyes lit up. “Yes, it could work. The council had been working hard to broker peace between our people for _decades_. They’d let a disabled Alliance frigate dock, it’d be in poor taste not to. Once we’re on the station I’ll be safe because of my father, and you’ll be safe because of your human ambassador. Granted they might interrogate you for a while, but I’d say it’s the best chance we have.”

She grinned at him, relief coursing through her. “Sounds good,” and it really did. Her heart leapt a little at the thought of going to the Citadel. To know it really existed, it was one of those things they whispered about in basic… did you know there’s a place where all the different aliens in the galaxy live together in harmony? The thought that she might one day be there… “Let’s go, big guy,” she said, slapping him in the arm. He visibly tensed, then sighed before shouldered his rifle and following her back into the ship.

.

Minutes later she had him in the flight chair while she took her place at the ship diagnostic terminal. “Hatch is sealed,” she reported. “We’re a go for launch.”

“Well, if this isn’t nerve wracking, I don’t know what is,” he replied, but the humor in his voice told her he was feeling better, at least. Or, at least accepted that he wasn’t going to die in a blaze of vengeance glory.

She grinned and they both watched the screen as the ships ion engine made a high pitched whine as it came to life. The lights flickered momentarily, then held.

“Should I be worried?” she asked.

He shook his head, his hands flying over the controls. “Small spike, but we’re good now. Now, I have to say there is a chance they’ll detect us and shoot us out of the sky… this ship is small, and we’re about seven kilometers from the base. We’re out of visual range, barely, but there’s still a chance they can pick us up on sensors.”

“How much of a chance?” she returned.

“Not sure. If you have any gods, this’d be a good time to pray.”

She held her breath as the ship rose and the trees disappeared and became a solid mass of browns and greens. Seconds later the drive kicked on and she felt herself crush back against the seats.

That was new. It must have been the effect of the ion engine.

They both remained silent for several tense minutes as they cleared orbit. She waited until she had seen stars for a few minutes, then looked between the clock readout and the viewscreen. “How much longer until we’re out of sight and sensor range?” she asked.

“We should be just about… hah,” he said. “It’s on my preprogrammed flight path,” he sounded smug. “It utilizes the stellar bodies of this system to mask any engine output. We’re just about at the first moon. If they don’t start chasing us down in the next five minutes I’d say we’re pretty damn safe.”

She unstrapped herself and got to her feet. She came over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He gave her a surprised look, and she just grinned back. “Welcome to the SSV Bensington, Garrus Vakarian.”

“Hmm,” he reached up and put his hand over her own and she tried her best to ignore how that made her stomach flip flop. “Never expected to be here, but it’s better than the alternative.”

“I’ll say,” she replied.

They were flying steadily now, the moon growing bigger in the viewscreen and she smiled, feeling a tightness in her chest relax slowly. For the first time since this entire fucked up mission had begun she felt like she was going to live, like she was going to _make it_ , and she owed it all to her new turian shipmate. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she said, and gave his shoulder a small squeeze before letting go and turning away.

.


	7. Lost

.

_How many colonies had been wiped out by turians since this war began? How many of their warships had the Alliance shot down in retaliation? If she wasn’t his enemy, then what the hell was she to him?_

.

DAY 1

.

Garrus Vakarian was adrift.

After the first push away from the planet didn’t lead to anyone pursuing them he took the time to register how tired he was. He had barely slept the night before out in the woods, and he had been pushing himself for nearly a full day cycle prior to that. He sank back in the uncomfortable human chair with a small sigh, rubbing a hand over his mandibles.

The stars on the viewscreen didn’t move, though the lights told him the ion engine was online and pushing them forward. The auto pilot was engaged, and he didn’t have to sit here and watch the display. He couldn’t think of what else to do, though, not really.

He had never felt so uncomfortably out of place before in his entire life.

This was a human ship. The readouts in front of him weren’t anything he was trained in. If some other turian had told him a week ago that he’d be on an Alliance frigate with a human shipmate who didn’t seem to want to kill him on sight, he would have questioned his sanity.

Yet here he was.

He shouldn’t be here. If she escaped alone… no one would believe her if she said a turian helped her. But, being onboard the ship with her? He had a lot of explaining to do when he got to the Citadel. He wasn’t even sure _how_ to explain this one. His father was going to be furious. His military career was probably over in a disgrace.

“Hey,” that was Shepard now, beside him, peering down at him with her green eyes. “Are you okay?”

He shook himself out of his thoughts. “Fine, Shepard,” he replied, trying to ignore how her genuine concern made him feel. And there was the rub in this damnable situation. His feelings for her were completely inappropriate, brought on by the horror of watching her crumble in the face of torture and death. Now the tables had turned, she was back in her element, she was going to _live_ , she was happy and alive and… his feelings still hadn’t changed.

“Right,” she replied. She reached down and took his arm gently, tugging on it with both hands, encouraging him to get up. “No, you’re not fine,” and he wondered how the hell she was able to tell. “Come on, big guy, I’ll show you were you can bunk down for the night. The ship can fly it’s self for a while.”

He considered arguing, then decided against it and got to his feet. There was no real point of causing a confrontation on her ship.

.

He was surprised when she brought him to the captain’s chambers. The room was small, containing only a bed and desk, but it was still a private room. He balked at the threshold.

“I shouldn’t,” he said finally. “This should be your room.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m fairly sure you outrank me, Vakarian,” she said. She continued before he could protest that this was a human vessel and all the other reasons why she should take the private room. “I can’t sleep here,” she said, and now her voice was low and sad. “The commander…” she shook her head as if to clear it and looked up at him. “Please take the room. I’ll sleep in the crew quarters.”

He nodded. He couldn’t argue with that, not really, especially if the room was going to bring back bad memories for her.

Standing in the human captain’s room after she had gone…

Awkward, wrong and out of place didn’t even begin to describe it.

_He shouldn’t be here._

.

He tried to settle down and found he couldn’t sleep on the asari-like bed, at least not right away, and not with an unfamiliar engine humming at his feet and surrounded by alien walls. Instead he left the room to wander the ship. He took in the facilities, the shared showers and toilets. He used the latter one and resolved to use the former the next day when he wasn’t so dead on his feet. He paused to look into the crew quarters but they were empty.

He found her in the conference room. She looked up and waved when he approached, looking as weary as he felt. Her hair was wet, she had showered sometime between his attempt at sleeping and now. She was also eating a wide variety of packaged food.

“Hey,” she greeted. She ran a hand through her dark red hair, the wet strands sticking to her cheek despite her efforts. “I’d offer you some food but… you know.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. He had put his pack in this room when he came back from outside. He rummaged through it and found some jerky he had picked up in the locker room. They lapsed into companionable silence, though he noticed the curious look on her face as he ate his food, tearing at it with his teeth.

“You’re definitely a carnivore,” she said after silently watching him for a while. “Those pointy shark teeth look like they could rip anything open.”

“I don’t know what that is,” he confessed.

“A shark? A type of animal from my home planet that lives in the ocean,” she said with a shrug. “We nearly hunted them to extinction about a hundred and fifty years ago. They’re fine now.”

“I see,” more silence as they both ate, and he shifted uncomfortably. It seemed strange, that’d they’d be able to talk for hours when she was his prisoner, but now they were silent when the tables had turned. That or she was just really tired.

She was really tired. He saw how her head drooped as she sat there, and the nutritional packet in her hand remained half eaten.

“You should sleep,” he suggested.

She looked up at him and blinked blurrily. She almost looked like she was going to argue, then she nodded. “Right, on it,” she got to her feet and stretched before heading to the door. “You should as well,” she said.

He nodded. “Soon,” he replied. He almost wished her a good night, but the words died on his tongue. It felt too familiar, too soon. Instead he watched as she walked from the room and disappeared from sight.

.

When he finally did manage to fall asleep on the bed in the captain’s chambers, he was woken by sounds he hadn’t heard in nearly a week. He sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes, and suddenly every one of his senses were on alert as he listened.

Whimpering. Soft cries that peaked and fell, dulled by the walls between the rooms. For a frightened moment he wondered if someone was attacking her, and then he remembered where they were. No one could attack them, they were alone on a ship in space. Even so, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and picked up his rifle.

.

She was indeed alone in the room when he got there, sprawled out on one of the lower bunks in the farthest corner of the room. He approached her silently, watching as she twisted this way and that, sharp whimpers welling up from her throat as she fought off an invisible opponent. Her eyes were closed, which meant she was in the middle of a nightmare. Turians didn’t often dream, but he knew bad dreams were an issue for other races. He considered as he looked down at her. He didn’t know what the proper protocol was when it came to such things, but it seemed like a good idea to maybe just leave her to fight her way through it alone, when her eyes suddenly snapped open.

She took one look at him and let out a blood curling scream. He flinched and stumbled back a step, only to have her attack him a moment later, her fist connecting solidly with his left mandible. Only lightening quick reflexes stopped him from trying to shoot her or hurt her in return, he dropped the rifle and caught her instead as she flew at him. They ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs. “Shepard, stop!” he commanded as she tried to punch him again, grabbing her wrist and holding it.

She slowed by degrees and sat up, still panting heavily. She stared down at him. “Oh, holy shit,” she breathed. “Garrus.”

He stared up at her, blood pumping from the unexpected attack, and a little shocked. “What…” he began.

“I… bad dream,” she managed to get out. She reached out towards his jaw and he flinched back. She stopped. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

He reached up, testing his mandible with his own hand. It had hurt when she struck him, but the pain was quickly fading. No permanent damage. “I do believe I’ll live,” he said.

She got up and off of him, holding out a hand to help him to his feet. He ignored it, instead standing himself. She looked up at him, then let out a small groan and sat back down on the bed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to attack you. It was just… a really bad nightmare. Usually they don’t get that bad.”

He hesitated for a moment, then very carefully sat down beside him. “Do you want to… ah, talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “Though it’s nice that you came,” To his utter shock she shifted so she was closer to him, then leaned against him, placing her head on his shoulder.

He froze.

She sensed it and sat up again, staring at him with wide eyes and he forced himself to relax. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she began.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he reassured her. “I just… wasn’t expecting that. So soon after your bad… what just happened to you, back on the planet,” he was nervous, and it was showing in his voice.

She reached out and touched his shoulder, right along the cowl, running her hand along it in what he took to be a comforting gesture. “It wasn’t you, in my nightmare,” she said. She blinked and shook her head slightly, taking her hand back and placing it in her lap. “It’s dark in here, I confused you for… someone else.”

He read into that. She was dreaming of other turians. He was surprised she stopped attacking him at all. “I can go get the light…”

She grasped his arm with both hands now. “No,” she breathed. “Can you just… can you stay here for a while? Please.”

He was silent for a moment. “Alright,” he said. “How…?” but she was already guiding him, pushing him back gently, and he followed her lead. Soon he found himself lying prone on her bed, wedged against the back wall. She scooted in beside him and curled up, forehead touching the front of his cowl. He stayed perfectly still for a long moment, then sighed mentally and followed her lead, settling himself so that he was comfortable enough, only to have her suddenly sit up again.

She gazed down at him, then, as he watched, she got up and grabbed a few pillows from the unoccupied beds. Those got stuffed into his cowl to support his head before she climbed back on the bed and curled up next to him again.

So she expected him to stay the night then. “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to have another bad dream and elbow me in the eye?” he asked her, his voice wary.

“Mmm… not really,” she replied, her voice already heavy with sleep. “No problems last… night…”

She was asleep again within minutes, and, miraculously, he followed soon after.

.

For the second day in a row he woke up in the arms of a human.

It took him a couple minutes to process what had happened the day before. It seemed like flashes of a dream, and likewise completely unbelievable. He had saved the human instead of avenging his garrison. He hadn’t even tried, for some reason just her yelling at him for a couple minutes cemented his betrayal. He had fallen asleep in a human bed, she had asked if he’d stay… and he did. He was sleeping with the enemy… he had _chosen_ to sleep with her and that fact astounded him.

She was still asleep as well, and, unlike the day before when they were huddled together for warmth, she was throwing off a lot more heat. Her red hair was stuck in clumps to the side of her face. He felt drawn to it and he reached out, carefully picking the strands up and moving them to behind her ear. Once done he trailed his hand downward, curious. She was wearing a sleeveless top, and he touched her bare shoulder, then her upper arm, taking in the feel of her skin. He had seen it all before, but he had never had a chance to touch it more than a fleeting instant. He could feel the little hairs that rubbed softly against his palm. When he moved his head to glance down her body he could see her top had bunched up, showing off where her waist dipped in. It exposed the gentle curve of her hip, what he could see of it over her shorts. He reached out, almost without thinking to touch her bare waist, then stopped himself quickly. No. For turians waking up next to another turian was something that happened after a night of recreation, where such wanderings would be welcome, but here… shit. He balled his hand up and moved it away. He nearly…

She caught his hand before he could move it very far and he startled and stared at her. She looked back at him through heavy lids, a small smirk curving her lips. “You can if you want,” she said, her voice rough with sleep.

“Can… what?” he replied, but he was fairly sure he knew what she meant.

“Touch,” she said, and if anything the smirk seemed to grow.

His heart started pounding in his chest. What happened to not letting her know? What happened to… she brought his hand back down, putting it on her waist.

He hesitated, then stoked the soft skin in that dip for a moment before common sense caught up with him in a crash. That skin had gouges in it less than a week before. Just because the medi-gel had healed the wounds didn’t mean they didn’t happen.

He pulled away and sat up abruptly, shaking his head. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t know what was up with her that she was apparently okay with this, but he couldn’t, not so soon after she had gone through that.

She frowned and sat up as well. “Wait,” she said, before he could get up off the bed completely. He sat on the edge of the bed, tense and unhappy, waiting for whatever it was that she wanted to say. “Just tell me why not.”

He stared down at his hands, unsure of how to answer. “I’m a turian,” he muttered.

She laughed. “I don’t care about that,” she said.

He looked up at her. “After what happened back at the base?” he asked, incredulously. “When they…”

The flinch told him what he needed to know, though the accompanying glare was unexpected. “Do you really think that’s the first time that’s happened to me?” she demanded to know.

His blood ran cold. “With a turian?” he replied, wondering why she have kept that from him, and the sick sinking feeling that she’d experienced such horror before at the hands of his people.

She looked surprised now. “What? No,” she said. “With a human,” she exhaled with a sigh. “Remember I mentioned I had a boyfriend when I was twelve and I moved in with him? Well, things got rough. I spent my teenage years on the streets, remember. Shit happens, you get used to it.” She trailed off. “It’s one of the reasons why I joined the military, no one can touch you without your say so.”

He felt a wave of sadness at that. “Until I handed you over.”

She snorted and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “A few rogue soldiers getting their rocks off during a war? That’s not your fault. It’s shitty, and it happens, but you’re not responsible for them,” she shrugged and got to her feet. She was barely taller than him standing with him still sitting on the bed, he saw, and it made him felt protective and discomfited at the same time.

“Even before I joined the Alliance I learnt how to pick my battles. You chose the people that you trust, people you want to be with…” she paused and gave him a smile as her voice slowed and dipped. “People you like,” she leaned forward and very gently kissed his forehead, running a hand along his fringe with a feather light touch as she did so. He didn’t move, frozen in place by nerves. She pulled away enough to talk. “I like you,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind good memories to go with the bad.”

“I…” he had no idea how to reply. It was like everything he wanted was being handed to him on a silver platter and for some reason that terrified him more than anything else in the entire galaxy. “Shepard… look. I don’t… I just…”

“Think about it. Offer stands, if you want to at some point,” she placed her hand on the side of his face, cupping it gently, and then she withdrew completely.

He watched her toss him another smile before turning to leave the room. He remained sitting there on the bed for several minutes, trying to process what had just happened.

.

It wasn’t that he was trying to avoid her, but he was, only in that he needed some time to work out his thoughts. On one hand, there wasn’t much harm in an interspecies exchange and, now that she knew, it seemed pointless to try to hide anything. On the other, he couldn’t shake the mental image of her flinching away from his touch while battered and broken, and in so much pain that she was breathing funny. He couldn’t do that, he wouldn’t… it was one thing to spar and cause incidental pain and discomfort when both involved agreed on the battle, it was another to cause pain because one of you happened to be an entirely different species and things didn’t quite work together.

He sat in the flight navigator chair and stared at his hands and blunted talons. Most turians working with other races either blunted their talons or wore gloves… or both, and now he knew why. The fragile hide of a human, or an asari, or a salarian…

So maybe he wouldn’t hurt her. Maybe there was a chance…

He chased the thought from his head.

He decided to avoid thinking about it altogether by going to calibrate the frigate’s gun.

.

He re-emerged in the evening, finding her in the conference room again, empty protein wrappers on the table beside her. He paused at the threshold of the room. She was hunched over a datapad, and she looked unhappy. As he watched she sat up straight, then drew a deep breath in and letting it out before putting the pad down. She startled when she saw him, though he was grateful that she didn’t scream.

“Oh, hey,” she said without smiling.

He approached cautiously, pausing when he was close enough to see what was on the pad. It was a photo of a bunch of humans in soldier gear, all smiling and laughing. He recognized one with red hair and realized what it was.

Her deceased squad. “I should, uh, go,” he said.

“Naw, sit,” she replied. “I was just…” she pushed the pad towards him. “My squad,” she said, repeating his thoughts. He picked it up and studied it carefully. He recognized the two humans he shot, though he didn’t mention it. Instead he quietly handed it to her again.

She turned it off and held it in her hands.

“Are you… angry?” he asked. If she was angry he would definitely go and return later.

“No. Yes. I suppose. A little. More angry about the war,” she replied. “I don’t know why the turians had to attack us in the first place. We were just curious. We’re always curious.”

He drew in a deep breath and felt like he was walking onto a verbal mine field. “And expansionist. You were being irresponsible.”

“How were we to know? If no one explains the rules to us?” her eyes were bright with anger and pain, the datapad still clenched in her fists.

He held up his hands. “Shepard, I don’t want to argue.”

She put down the datapad and folded her arms across her chest. “What I’d like to know is, who died and made you the police of the galaxy?” her tone was confrontational now.

“The salarians, actually. Well, jointly.”

“… the who?”

He fidgeted. “They’re just… never mind. Shepard, can we _please_ change the subject.”

She glared at him for a long moment, then seemed to give in, looking away. She sighed and got up, quietly leaving the room.

He watched her go.

.


	8. Together

.

Day 2

.

She woke up by degrees, taking in her immediate surroundings, and then processing the rest. She was on her ship, the reassuring hum from the engine telling her all was well. She opened her eyes to the rest of the crew quarters.

She was alone. Completely, even her turian shipmate wasn’t anywhere to be found. Not that he would, after yesterday.

She groaned softly and rolled onto her back, peering up at the bunk above her.

She shouldn’t have argued with him. He caught her by surprise by walking in on her like that. Still, he was a turian, and he hadn’t wanted to fight with her at all. She should have at least changed the subject like he asked, instead of walking off like that.

She sighed. There was the other issue with her turian shipmate. He _liked_ her, everything he had done so far tipped her off that he did, up to and including the fact that he touched her the morning before… before she scared him off.

She liked him as well. There was no point in denying it. But, perhaps she had pushed him too far the day before by propositioning him. He had seemed… not horrified, but uncomfortable. Then again, she wasn’t about to spend the entire trip dancing around the issue, that wasn’t her style.

There was something good in him, something that shone past all the rest of his upbringing and military career. He could claim that he saved her because it was the right thing to do, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that was the only reason. He saved her because he wanted her, she got that. He also wasn’t going to take without permission, and she had no idea if he knew how sexy that was.

She shut her eyes and let herself slip into a brief fantasy, just to know if she could. The thought of him touching her, intimately… she needed to know if she could give what she had offered him. She was a little relieved when she felt the warm burn settle in her abdomen. The thought of the other turians made a lick of terror go up her spine, but Garrus… he was different. She remembered his light touches as he moved her about to inspect her injuries. The way he held her when she cried, and again the night in the woods, huddled together for warmth. The way his hand rested along her waist, holding her in place against him. Then, lastly, the night before when he shared her bed…

She missed him, she realized, as she opened her eyes again. Maybe she was lonely because she spent a week in a cell with only one visitor. Perhaps it was because he was still the only friendly face for a week’s travel in all directions. Maybe there was something not quite right with her to even be entertaining the idea.

No matter what, she wanted him as well. A bit of recreational fun wouldn’t hurt to help smooth over hurt feelings…

 If he was still willing to talk to her after she walked off on him the day before, of course. She sighed and got up out of bed, glancing at the locker at the foot of the bunk beside her own before deciding.

She had known the soldier that owned this locker, and despite the fact that she knew he’d never use what she wanted every again, she still felt a twang of pain while going through his personal effects. She found the small slender bottle and held it up to the light before slipping it into her pocket.

.

She found him in the conference room.

He looked up from the datapad he had in front of him. There was a sort of defeated air about him, a weary acceptance that wasn’t there the day before. He watched as she gathered up a couple packets of food and came over to the table.

They sat in silence as she ate and he went back to reading the datapad.

The silence was brutal. It was close to physically painful. He was silent where before he’d have asked her questions. Their tentative bond was gone now, brought on by awkwardness and nerves and possibly anger. She couldn’t stand it.

She finished her food, then got up. Very deliberately she dragged a chair up to his. She settled into it, and clasped her hands in front of herself.

He looked at her sidelong. “Are you still angry?” he asked.

She returned his gaze then shifted enough to very deliberately place her head on his shoulder. He sat stiffly for a moment, then seemed to relax into it.

“That’s not an answer,” he chided her, his voice low and calm, and there was the turian who kept her company in that cell.

“It means I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied. “It means, I just…” she ran a hand along the outside of his cowl, then up to his cheek. He turned his head towards her, blue eyes searching her own. She leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, right beside the mandible. She drew back and looked up at him, waiting for his reaction.

Either this was going to backfire in her face and the tension between them would grow… making for a very awkward remaining four days to the mass relay, or he’d respond as she hoped.

He kind of half shrugged and sighed, then put down the datapad, turning around in order to place a hand around her waist. She felt relief course through her. It was working. Thank god.

The other hand he carded through her hair carefully, tugging gently when his talons got caught in tangles. She smiled and tilted her head into it. When she opened her eyes again she found he was gazing at her with rapt attention. Instead of the disconnect she had felt two short days before, where she would see him as a turian first and then Garrus, she found the opposite was true. Also the slow burn in her abdomen was back. She shifted in her chair, adjusting as carefully as she could. She wondered if he could tell the effect he was having on her.

He leaned forward, just a bit, and she wondered if he was going to try to kiss her. Instead he opened his mouth and spoke. “I’m not sure if this interspecies liaison you seem to want to initiate will be a _successful_ way to resolve eighteen years of animosity between our two people,” he said, picking his words with care.

The dryness in his voice had her fighting back a smile. She threaded her arms around his cowl to frown up at him playfully. “I have four more days to forget about this damn war and what happened to me and my squad down on that planet.”

He worked his mandibles for a moment before replying. “It would be a temporary reprieve,” he said. “We’re still at war at the end of the day… or, well, week. We will still be _enemies_ when everything is over.”

To hell with it. “I don’t care,” she said. She kissed him again, this time boldly. He didn’t react, but he didn’t pull away and she wondered if he even knew how to kiss. Probably not, given the way his mouth was made. His hand did tighten on her waist briefly, before dropping lower. Not enough to be hugely inappropriate, but getting there.

“You want me,” she said, her voice low. She wasn’t even bothering to beat about any bushes now.

His steady gaze didn’t waver. “What _I_ want doesn’t matter. To me or the Hierarchy,” he replied, but there was a brittle crackle to his voice and in the way his words flowed. He pulled back from her again. “Trust me, Shepard, if I could find a way to end this war I could. I never saw it as anything more than an unnecessary drain on resources. There are slavers out there that need to be put down, mercenaries that threaten the Hierarchy more than a handful of humans poking their noses in places they don’t belong.”

She leaned back as well as she processed this new information. She hadn’t thought he’d be against the war. That changed things a little. “And that’s why you let me go?”

Now he shut his eyes, almost as if he were pained. “You know why I let you go,” he said very quietly when he opened his eyes again. “It’s the same reason I’m _here_ and not back on Kruljaven,” he shook his head. “My… _feelings_ aside, what it comes down to is that I’m not a very good turian. Leaving you to be torn apart by korgan didn’t seem right.”

“I’m surprised you trusted me enough to let me come along with you,” she said.

“You insisted, if I recall,” he said. “I didn’t trust you,” he added. “I was going to let you go with the hopes that I wouldn’t ever see you again. Even last night I wasn’t completely sure… well,” he looked away.

Dawning realization came over her and she nearly pulled away completely with the shock of it. She trusted him now, but he still didn’t trust _her_. It made sense. She was safe with the ship programmed to reach the Citadel. She could probably reprogram it herself to change course for the Exodus cluster. He was at her mercy. If she chose to, she could attack him, maybe even hurt him or kill him. She still had a pistol, it remained in her locker, he hadn’t taken it from her.

“I will never hurt you,” she said, fervently. “I don’t care if we argue or fight or fuck or whatever. Unless you come after me with the intent to kill, of course,” she smirked briefly, before sobering up again. “You saved my life, Garrus. Twice,” she leaned towards him and kissed him again, this time on the edge of one of his mandibles, quick and light. She pulled back again and waited.

He studied her for a long moment, then seemed to decide something. He leaned forward the rest of the way and he nudged her mouth with his own. His skin was warm there, despite being solid and unyielding like the rest of him. She sat as still as she could as he ghosted along her jaw to finally settle right under her ear. He inhaled, deeply, scenting her.

She wondered if he could smell how interested she was.

He let out a small soft growl, right in her ear and hell if that didn’t just made everything tingle in just the right way. She let out a groan of her own, shifting in her chair again. That grew when she felt a hot tongue slide against the bottom of her neck. A talon came up and tugged her shirt to the side so he could taste more. She decided turn about was fair play and she reached up to slide her fingers over the slightly rough, leathery skin of his neck, gently scratching her nails across it, skidding them over the bits of plating here and there. He growled again, a little bit louder and with an odd catching in his throat. She moaned.

He got up suddenly, bringing her with him, and settled her down so that she was sitting on the table. His hands slid up her waist, bunching her shirt, thumbs rubbing against her stomach. She tugged at his weird turian shirt in response. “Off,” she ordered.

He stepped back, and this time their eyes met again. She could see the hesitation there. “I don’t...” he paused and reached out, touching the side of her face. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“You have no idea how wet I am right now,” she replied.

He blinked. “… What?”

He looked so confused she had to stifle a laugh. Interspecies relations indeed. She distracted back to what was important and tugged at his shirt again. “Off,” she ordered, “I need to test something.”

His mandibles twitched in way that she knew was a grin. “Only if you go first,” he said.

“Like you haven’t seen me shirtless before,” she pointed out, but then grinned back. “Okay fine,” she shucked off her shirt, then went for the bottle in her pants pocket, trying to ignore how he reached out and touched her arm, running his hand along it carefully, ruffling the fine hairs he found there. He seemed fascinated by it.

“Shirt. Off.” She ordered again once she had the bottle in her hand.

He pulled away and looked down at the object in her hand with curiosity. “What is that?” he asked.

“Something to make things easier for me,” she replied. “But I’d like to make sure you don’t react badly to it first.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” he looked relieved. “Maybe we can avoid post-coital medi-gel,” he paused. “Wait… you planned this.”

She made a hand motion to his shirt and he nodded, reaching up to undo the clasps. He pulled it over his head and now it was her turn to stare.

Even the turians back in the cell hadn’t taken their shirts off. This was like nothing she had ever seen before. The plating came together with a slightly raised bit in the center of his chest, painting a line down towards his stomach. His waist was wasp thin, something she knew just by looking at him with clothes on. His chest was wide, she already knew that as well by the fact that she had laid against him several times, but it seemed exaggerated now that he had was bare. She reached out, curious despite herself, and touched as he stood still. The plating was smooth and slightly reflective, coming together in swirls towards the center. She wondered at that… wondered what it was made of. The plates on his face seemed to be almost more weathered by comparison.

“Like what you see, Shepard?” he asked, and there was a slight hesitation in his dual-toned voice. She couldn’t have that, she decided, and she smiled up at him playfully.

“Depends. I haven’t seen you with your pants off yet,” she replied, her voice teasing. She sobered up quickly and held out the bottle. “Here,” she said. She reached out and gently took his arm, flipping it so she had access to the underside. The plating didn’t reach in the area between his lower arm and his elbow. “May I?” she asked, before squeezing some of it out.

He nodded.

She applied a bit of the lubricant to his skin and rubbed it in. She then sat back and paused while he inspected his arm like he had never seen it before. “Does it hurt at all?” she asked after a minute or so had gone by.

He reached out with his other hand and poked the area of skin with a finger. “No,” he said finally. “It feels slightly cool,” he added.

“Think you’d feel okay with putting this on your…?” she made a hand motion to his lower bits. It was then that she noticed he was aroused, tenting slightly in his trousers. She blushed despite herself, feeling like a young teenager again. She also felt slightly proud of herself. She did that. He did want her, even with the confusion on his face right now.

“Yes, it should be fine,” he replied, his voice even.

“Let me,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry. She put a dollop of the liquid onto her fingers.

He hesitated again. “Are you sure…” he began.

“I’ve never been surer about anything, Vakarian,” she replied.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and looked almost pitiful as he pulled down his pants. His erection bobbed free, long, on the thin-ish side, with plating along the bottom, just like those other turians that she absolutely did not want to think about right then.

“Trust me, you’re not going to hurt me,” she retorted. She glanced up to get permission and he gave her a slight nod before she reached down and started to spread the lubricant on his already slightly slick cock. It was warm and tinted blue and under her fingers she could almost feel it pulsing with his heart beat. He drew in a shuddering breath and she let out a soft whine in reply.

“Screw foreplay,” she muttered, putting the bottle down and leaning back on the table. “I need you inside of me, now,” she started fumbling at her waistband of her sleepwear, only to have him bat her hands away. She let him sniff at her neck again and tug down her pants as she went to work on her bra, breasts falling free as she pulled it off. He sniffed at those too, and she bit her lip. “They feel good if you li – yes,” she whined softly as he ran his tongue over one of them. He looked up and repeated the motion, then brought his taloned hand up to gently play with the other, a curious expression on his face. She realized that there was a possibly that turian females didn’t even have breasts, if they were as plated and armored as the males, which meant that these were about as foreign and fascinating to him as they were to human men.

She reared up, trying to remind him what he was up to and he distracted back to divesting her of her pants. Her underwear came last with a wet sound and he made a strangled noise as he got a good look at her.

“It’s… you’re… hmm,” he reached out, very carefully touching her with a talon as she remained perfectly still. For the first time that day she did feel a touch of fear, but she forced it down. He was being gentle and she knew he’d back off if she told him to. He held up his hand, rubbing her fluid between a thumb and forefinger.

“I wasn’t aware that humans self lubricated,” he commented finally.

“When we’re aroused enough, yeah we do,” she replied with a smirk and he glanced up at her, understanding dawning in his eyes.

“You want me that badly?” he said, something akin to awe in his voice.

She wanted to roll her eyes at the beautiful concerned turian in front of her but instead she just spread her legs, hooking them around his thin waist. “Yes,” she breathed. “Come here,” she added, and wrapped her arms around his cowl and pulling him down. She ignored the voice in the back of her head that told her she was moving way too fast. This was fine. This was perfect. He braced himself on either side of her and leaned down, mouthing at her cheek, mandible sliding against her skin. He shifted to the side to put all his weight on one of his arms, bringing his free hand down in order to line himself up. He slid inside with a single smooth motion.

It felt _right_. She gasped and threw her head back, and he caught her head with surprisingly quick reflexes before she could smack it on the table. He held her close as he pulled back and then thrust into her again.

It didn’t hurt. She expected as much with the preparation, and the fact that she wanted this, but it was still a pleasant surprise. His plating didn’t chafe, and the angle was so much better than it was before. Then again, her arms had been bound behind her back then, so she couldn’t do what she was currently doing, which was running her hands up his arms and across his cowl, inside to the back of his neck. She scratched at the skin there and he gasped against the top of her head and thrust again, suddenly and harder than before. She smiled and did it again. That seemed to encourage him. He put her down again and braced with both arms, before pulling back and plunging forward.

She groaned and hitched her legs higher, bringing a hand down between her legs to rub her clit as he set up a much quicker pace. His breathing became increasingly ragged against her ear and now he was licking her neck in time with his thrusts. She hitched her legs up again and he grabbed her ass with his hands, lifting her to slam back home. That did it, combined with working her clit and now she was coming harder than she had in a long time. He actually stilled for a moment to stare down at her, and she tightened her legs across his uncomfortable back plates. “Keep going,” she growled.

He did as he was told as she went limp in the aftermath of her orgasm, riding him out. Minutes later he was coming himself, an odd almost howling sound issuing from his mouth as he did so. He sagged above her, hands planted on either side of her to hold his weight, panting heavily with his head bowed. He glanced up and his eyes met hers, concern in them.

She reached up, touching the side of his face, running her fingers along the blue markings that looked to be a tattoo, instead of paint like she previous thought. He wasn’t sweaty, the plating didn’t allow for it, she supposed, and she was struck again by how alien he was.

She didn’t care.

He gulped, then smiled with his mandibles and leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Did I hurt you,” he asked quietly.

She smiled softly, and leaned up in order to kiss him on his unyielding mouth. “No,” she replied. “Never.”

.

They forwent the chairs to settle on the floor, him with his back against the wall and her in his lap. She was used to how hard he was against her, but it seemed worse without clothes. She dozed and he held her, nuzzling her hair now and then, stroking her back. When she opened her eyes she focused on the food storage cabinets along the far wall, the Alliance symbol blazoned in the corner.

The word came to mind unbidden. _Traitor_.  She had fucked a turian on the table of an empty ship… empty because he had been one of the turians to shoot her fellow soldiers. She tensed despite herself, sucking a deep breath through her teeth. No. _No_. She wasn’t a traitor. He saved her life. This was stress relief, glorious and fun and meaningless. What he was didn’t matter. None of this mattered and once she was back in Alliance space no one would ever find out about him. Ever.

He pulled back to look down at her. “What’s wrong?” he questioned.

She didn’t reply or look at him, merely closed her eyes again and forced herself to relax. “I’m thinking too much,” she said in way of explanation.

He nudged her away again, moving her back so that she knelt on the floor in front of him. He took her head in his hands, cupping her face gently. He stared at her, blue eyes searching her own. She looked away first. “I’m a traitor,” she said finally.

He laughed at that, actually laughed, deep chuckles rising up from his chest. “As am I,” he replied. He half shrugged and leaned back, putting on a nonchalant air. “Thing is, Shepard, I can think of less pleasant ways to betray my people,” he grasped the sides of her face again and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her own. It lasted a second before he pulled away. He glided his thumb over her cheek. “Maybe one day we will no longer be at war, and _this_ won’t be as wrong.”

She looked back at him and forced a smile. “Maybe,” she replied. She wrapped her arms around his cowl and curled up against him again.

.

She waited until he was asleep, dozing against the wall of the conference room before she got up and redressed. She made her way to the flight deck. She stood there staring at the stars for a long moment, before turning towards the diagnostic terminal, intent to make sure all systems were running properly. She called up several of them, then suddenly stopped cold, reading the display in front of her with disbelief.

Communications System Online.

She knew the long range communications had been disabled, they had been when they took off from the planet the other day, another thing sabotaged by the turians. But if they were online now, that meant he had fixed them, probably the night before while she was asleep…

She shifted forward quickly, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. This changed everything. If he used the communication system to contact the turian fleet they’d come and gather them both up in a matter of hours. She’d be his prisoner once again.

“Shit,” she swore under her breath, fingers flying across the console. She stopped cold when she read the results.

No Transmissions.

She checked again.

No Transmissions.

She refused to believe he wouldn’t be able to manipulate the signal to message his fleet, even given the fact that it was on an Alliance channel. Basic training would have taught him to hijack alien communication channels.

She breathed in deeply and sat back. He didn’t betray her. He could have, but he didn’t.

Her hands stilled on the console.

She could. She realized it with such force her hands trembled. The Alliance would be here in hours. She’d have to shoot him, however, or restrain him somehow, and they’d take him prisoner just as he said they would, if not shoot him on sight and…

She stared down at her hand where it was, right above the button that she’d need to press to start a transmission.

It took what felt like forever for her to decide. She exhaled and touched the exit button instead. Two more swipes of her finger and the entire communication system shut down.

She stood, and turned to stare out the viewscreen, at the stars that didn’t move. They were at least three days from the mass relay. They were in hostile space. Every instinct screamed at her to send a transmission. It might save her life. It might save Alliance lives if they sent a search party to that planet before she was able to warn them when she reached the Citadel.

If she sent any sort of warning, they’d come to get her and she’d be condemning him to death.

She turned away, back towards the exit off of the flight deck and startled.

He was standing at the door, arms folded across his chest, still topless. She had to steady herself on the chair, heart pounding. “How…” she started, an octave higher than usual. She cleared her throat and tried again. “How long have you been standing there?” she demanded to know.

“Long… enough,” he said. He nodded his head towards the terminal. “Why?” he asked, and then she knew he knew everything. That she had nearly sent a transmission but decided against it. Heck, for all she knew he had left the system active as a trap.

She thought about lying, but decided on the truth. “If I contact the Alliance Navy you’ll die,” she said, point blank.

He shook his head. “That shouldn’t matter,” he said. His voice went out of sync as he said it, and there was something lost in his expression.

“It does to me,” she replied. She walked up to him. She reached up and touched the side of his face. “We’re in this together. Unless the Citadel you’re taking us to is a trap.”

He watched her with his sharp blue eyes, then dropped his gaze and shook his head. “It’s not.”

She reached up and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her again. “Then it’s still the best chance for _both_ of us.”

He looked away again and this time she let him go with a soft sigh.

She went to walk away when he called out to her. “I repaired it last night, while you were sleeping,” his voice was low. “I could have sent a transmission to the turian fleet.”

She turned back again. “I know,” she replied.

That had to be shock on his face. “Then why didn’t you…”

“Because you didn’t,” her reply was frank. “Because I guess deep down you realized that you’re going to have to trust me as well.”

He didn’t respond and she turned from the bridge, and her possible salvation. He watched her go as she walked away.

 _Traitor,_ her mind whispered at her as she went. She frowned and ignored it. She wasn’t going to sacrifice him, that wasn’t an option. She had to believe that the Citadel was still their best chance at getting through all this alive. Together.

.


	9. Guilt

.

Day 2 - 4

.

He couldn’t sleep that night, after she had gotten angry at him and left the room, so he set about repairing some of the sabotaged systems on the ship. Getting the long range communications back online was a triumph, one that was instantly met with a dilemma.

Any other turian would have called for help. He knew the codes, he knew how to alter the transmission so that the fleet knew the distress signal was coming from one of their own. Every time he went to enter the codes, he remembered her.

Besides the fact that it would shatter any rapport they had already established, he couldn’t shake the mental image of her, shivering in pain, looking up at him with wariness and fear. Or, the intense way she looked when she told him she didn’t want to die. There was life in those eyes, a fierceness of spirit that would be wiped out completely the moment he betrayed her.

He hated this.

 He hated how nothing was easy, how he knew what he had to do, and the crushing weight of knowing he wasn’t doing that. His only reprieve was the fact that he knew could send a distress signal at any point, if he wanted to.

.

Now he stared at the same console for a long while. She had retreated back into the ship, leaving him alone on the flight deck. She trusted him, and now he had no reason not to trust her, besides the fact that it wasn’t in his nature to trust easily. Even so, her words did much to calm him.

She was right, the Citadel was still their best bet for a joint resolution that would leave them both alive. He hesitated, then entered a string of commands, disabling the whole system again.

.

He found her in the crew quarters, pulling mattresses off of the bottom bunk of a couple of the beds and dragging them to the center aisle. There wasn’t enough room for two mattresses side by side, but, as he watched, she shoved at a locker to move it and understood what she was trying to do. “You gonna help, or stand there?” she asked finally as she struggled with it.

He came over and lifted it with ease, setting it down where she pointed. She was raising both eyebrows at him as he turned back around to look at her.

“You’re a strong boy,” she said with admiration.

“I am,” he replied smugly, forgoing any sort of lecture on turian biology. They were bigger and stronger than humans, especially the small human females. She smirked and picked up the second mattress, pulling into place. She then went to pick up a bunch of pillows, tossing a couple at him quite deliberately. He caught them and dropped them on the mattresses.

 She was obviously making a nest of some sort, possibly for them both, which was appreciated. Sleeping together on one mattress meant he could barely move, it wasn’t exactly an experience he wished to repeat.

“I disabled the long range communications,” he said as he helped her rearrange the pile. “It would be better if it appeared to be inactive the entire way to the Citadel. It will prevent… unfortunate questions for both of us.”

She paused in fluffing the pillow she had in her hands. “Thanks, I think,” she replied. “You can reactivate it, in case of an emergency?” she asked.

He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I suppose we could both send out distress calls and see whose army shows up first,” she said lightly.

He sat back and looked at her.

She glanced up at him, and then rolled her eyes. “I’m joking, relax.”

“I hope… this is a good idea, Shepard,” he said quietly. He didn’t just mean the communications system, he meant the nest as well, trusting each other, all of it.

She shrugged. “I’d rather this than any alternative that ends up with one of us dead. We’re _both_ survivors, Garrus. I’d like to keep it that way.”

He felt a flood of warmth at that, unexpected feelings he didn’t think he’d ever have for a random human prisoner he just happened to accidentally befriend. He got up and walked over to her, settling down next to her. He did that thing she did with her mouth, kissing, pressing his mouth up against hers. Turians didn’t tend to kiss, they nipped, gently…

She let out a soft “ah” sound and pressed her mouth back against his with enthusiasm.

She smiled at him when they broke apart. “This time, I’m going to show you a few things about how to make a human woman happy,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink as she said it.

“Please do,” he replied.

She did that thing where she stuck her soft many-fingered hands inside his cowl and scratched lightly at his neck. That felt good, way better than he expected. He growled softly, his eyes falling half lidded. “And maybe you can teach me a thing or two about turians,” she continued.

“I can do that,” he said and kissed her again.

.

He wasn’t hurting her, at least he knew that.

He could see the difference in the way her eyes sparkled as she teased him relentlessly, how she didn’t cringe in pain. She was bold, and not afraid.

He was painfully attracted to her. It would have been more distressing if it seemed to bother her at all, but it didn’t.

She called it cuddling, the thing they did after sex. He didn’t mind that either, it was comfortable, it reminded him of sitting in the woods with her in his lap. She was soft all over, which made him want to be careful with her, hold her like she was a precious thing, despite the fact that she was aggressive as hell while fucking.

He had no idea what he had done to deserve this. She was currently resting against him in a tangle of limbs, naked as the day she was born… assuming humans were born both pink and smooth. Her cheek was pressed to his chest, and his hand stroked the small of her back as he gazed up at the ceiling. Turians often didn’t like lying on their backs, but the abundance of pillows did help.

He was still worried. Turians were able to compartmentalize things that happened to them, for the most part, he was a rare one that dwelled on things from his past far more than he should. She liked him and wanted him after what had happened to her, after her species had been at war with his own for years, and he didn’t quite know what to make of it. But still, no matter how willing she appeared to be, having sex with her so soon after finding her tortured and in pain didn’t quite seem right.

“What if this is a mistake?” he muttered under his breath.

She peeled her head off his chest in order to stare up at him. “Are you kidding? This is one of the only good things to come of this entire fucked up situation.”

And there was her opinion on the entire matter.

“If you say so,” he replied, and that got a teasing punch to the arm.

“I do. Stop worrying, Garrus,” she commanded.

He grunted and turned his head away from her. “My father won’t like this very much,” he said finally. He didn’t imagine any turian would, but a sudden image of his father frowning down at him came to mind against his will.

She let out a little snort of laughter. “Am I your rebellious teenager stage?” she asked.

“What? No…” he trailed off and considered. “Well, maybe a little,” there wasn’t anything more rebellious than what he was currently doing with her, was there? Well, maybe outside of setting up shop on Omega and getting into the underground weapons trade, or drug trade…

.

They slept together that night. He held her against his chest, her back against him, her hand over his arm where it lay against her side. When he woke up the next day she was gone.

.

He found her in the cargo bay, doing push-ups, a gleam of sweat across her back and around her supportive breast holder. He watched her for a while, admiring the way her muscles rippled and moved as she pushed and fought against the artificial gravity. She caught him looking and flashed him a smile before switching to sit ups.

He left the room, disappearing into engineering and checking the systems over, when he remembered he did have something else to do that day, outside of watching his human woman exercise. (When did he start thinking of her as “his woman”?)

They were halfway to the relay by this point, and that made something akin to dread well up inside of him. He’d have to face his father. He’d have to explain why he was with a human. He had to make sure he showered her scent off of himself, so a more adept at smelling alien like an Elcor didn’t smell her all over him and let C-Sec know.

He made his way back to the flight deck, settling down at the diagnostic terminal.

.

That was where she found him about an hour later. She was now dressed in her regular off duty outfit, hair wet from a shower.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked, tugging the flight chair over to sit beside him.

“Writing a report,” he replied. “When I get to the Citadel, C-Sec and the fleet will require a full accounting of what happened to cause this,” he gestured to the ship around them. “To happen.”

“How much do you have written?” she asked, curious. He realized she couldn’t understand the turian he was currently writing in, which was from a patch from his omni-tool. It was easier to just write in his native language.

“Everything about how you came to be a prisoner on our base, to the attack that brought us here,” he replied. He shifted forward. “What I can’t quite figure out is how to explain you. I should have gone back and infiltrated the base, Shepard. Being here on this ship with you looks _bad_.”

“You know going back there would have been suicide,” there was something brittle in her voice now, almost accusing. He realized she was probably upset at the thought of losing him, which was another thing that astounded him, though he was admittedly starting to get used to it.

“Turians don’t retreat, Shepard,” he said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed.” He turned back to his report. “What I should say is that you are still my prisoner,” he said, thinking out loud. He regretted his words the moment he said them. She didn’t need to be reminded of that…

Instead of being upset, she tapped a finger to her lips and appeared to be considering. “Hmm,” she said. “Why not go all the way? Just write that you brought me with you to be your sex slave.”

He looked at her so fast that his head spun. She raised an eyebrow at him and stared at him challengingly, until he groaned and put his head in his hands. “That… no, Shepard. I’ll be ostracized, my father will never speak to me again… not to mention the formal reprimand and possibly not being allowed to back into the fleet…” he fumbled to a stop and paused when he heard her chuckling softly. “You did that on purpose,” he said accusingly, glaring at her.

She grinned and leaned over to press a kiss to his left mandible. “Maybe I can be convinced to say nice things,” she said in his ear.

“You’re terrible,” he muttered.

“Yes,” she replied sweetly, and didn’t sound the least bit sorry. She sobered up then, sitting back in her chair, looking at the turian words on his screen. “What happened to those other soldiers?” she asked finally.

He glanced at her. She was serious now, all merriment gone from her face. “The ones that attacked you?”

She nodded.

“Well, they’re probably dead now,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him again.

He sighed. “They were probably given informal reprimands. The two youngest ones, they turned themselves in after I caught them. Macius… probably did not. Either way, nothing much came of it, outside of me being assigned to watch _you_ , which saved my life, so thank you for that.”

She drew a deep breath and let it out again. “I see,” she said, but didn’t elaborate. Instead she changed the subject. “Do you know at all why they decided not to execute me right away?” she asked. “Even a guess?”

He shook his head. “I have to admit, it was pretty strange. The Hierarchy wouldn’t respond when we asked. Usually these things are cut and dry and you have no value to the turian fleet or as a negotiation tool. Maybe I’ll be able to find out once we’re safe on the Citadel.”

She nodded and seemed to accept that.

“I’m going to tell the truth,” she said after a moment. He gave her a suspicious look. “The real truth,” she reassured him. “Or as real as I can make it. I might mention my treatment as a prisoner, but that isn’t your fault. No matter what, I couldn’t have gotten off the planet without your help, Garrus. We agreed to work together to go to this Citadel place so we could both survive to warn about what happened back on that planet. That is my story.”

“No mention of interspecies…ah, trysts?” he questioned.

She shook her head. “Believe it or not, I don’t think the Alliance would be very happy to find out about what we’ve been doing during our free time on this ship. If they find out I willingly…” she trailed off. “I might be tried for treason. Probably not, but there’s a chance. Depends on how much evidence they decide to heap against me. I did let you onto an Alliance frigate with full access to our systems.”

He looked at her. “We already had access to the frigate,” he said. “And full access to your systems.”

“There is that,” she agreed with a nod. “Either way, what I do with my body is none of their damn business.”

He nodded. He completely understood, it was something he planned to leave out of his own report. An omission of information when it didn’t hurt anyone wasn’t exactly a lie, which did a bit to relieve the crawling guilt. “It’s not as easy for me,” he replied. “I mean I can leave out what we’ve done onboard the ship, but as for why I’m even here in the first place…”

“We can go back to the prisoner excuse?” she suggested.

He eyed his report. “I will have to tell the truth, say that we worked together to escape, that the odds of surviving an attack or an infiltration attempt on that base would have been… extremely low. I can only hope the repercussions aren’t as bad as I fear them to be.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “I hope you don’t get in trouble,” she said. “It would be unfair for you to pay for the fact that I demanded you come with me.”

He nodded. He appreciated her words.

“Literally,” she added with a cheeky grin.

He groaned again and she slapped his shoulder before leaving the room.

He waited until she left before going back to his report.

It was hopeless. He sat back with a sigh. He’d have to face the consequences of this. Thankfully they still had a couple days before they would arrive at the Citadel.

.

He kept a strict schedule, old habits engrained in him from five years of military service demanding he did something productive during work cycle hours. He spent much of the fourth day working on the weapons system, or more learning all he could about it. He was still a turian soldier after all, and it was useful to know what you could about your enemy. She switched between reading about the same weapons systems he was working on and doing laps around the cargo hold. She was bored, he could tell. She had even spent an hour sitting around in engineering, watching as he worked. When he emerged to get something to eat that evening she sat on his lap and kissed him. He kissed her back for a while before chasing her off and promising he’d do whatever she wanted once he had a shower.

He barely kept himself inside during that shower. They had already had sex in the cargo hold the day before, in the nest that morning, the two times the day before that… she was insatiable. His body didn’t seem to mind, though he had to fight to keep himself inside. Soon. She’d be waiting for him when he finished cleaning up.

He didn’t expect to find what he did when he got out of the shower. She wasn’t in the nest, or the mess room. Confused, he checked the flight deck.

He stopped cold.

She was leaning over the flight console, dressed in only her underwear.

For a long moment he stood still, drinking in the sight of her backside, the way she was positioned in an obviously suggestive way. He’d see asari maidens pose like this while on shore leave. Except instead of being a show for everyone, this was for _him_.

He was rapidly losing the battle with keeping himself in check.

He took a step towards her, and then another. “I don’t know if this is a test…” damn, even he could hear the arousal in his voice, and he definitely didn’t miss how her breathing sped up. He reached her and leaned over her without touching her at all. “Or an invitation,” his voice dropped, going rough with desire.

She bit back a moan and slid down the console ever so slightly, raising her rear silently. Definitely an invitation. He allowed himself a split second of hesitation. Sure they had had sex enough times that they were now used to each other intimately, but she had always been facing him. He had never expected that she’d want him to mount her from behind, not after what she had been through.

He touched the small of her back, stroking the soft skin and thick corded muscle that framed her spine. She pushed up against his hand, but didn’t speak. Nerves got the better of him. “Shepard, are you sure this is okay?” he asked, his voice low.

She stilled and sighed. “Garrus, I wouldn’t be draped over this console with my ass in the air if I wasn’t one hundred percent okay with this. Trust me. Now…” she pushed up against his hand again, very deliberately. “Get on with it.”

“Right,” he shook his head to clear it, a bit grateful she was okay because he was out, and it was slightly uncomfortable to be completely erect against the inside of his pants. He moved his hand downward, cupping one of her ass cheeks before running a single finger between her legs. He used the outside of that finger to gently run it over her cloth covered slit, where she had said the day before she liked him to touch her. Sure enough she moaned appreciatively.

“You’re wet already,” he noted, running his finger up and down deliberately.

He could see her reflection slightly in the viewscreen, how she smirked and pushed back against his hand to encourage him.

Right, moving on. He shifted and looped a talon up, tugging at the elastic of her underwear, deciding to play along as best he could. “But this is in the way,” he said, leaning close to speak in her ear, his voice still low. “What should I do with it?” he grasped it and twisted it up gently, so that it rubbed against her, and she moaned again.

“Take it _off_ ,” she groaned. “Please,” she added, as if he might refuse if she wasn’t a bit polite about it.

He chuckled. “If you insist,” she shivered and he pulled the fabric down, tantalizingly slowly and he enjoyed every second of exposing her. As he watched she squirmed, then stopped herself, holding still so he could look her over. He could see her, redder than the rest of her skin and glistening and more than prepared. He swallowed and moved forward, pressing his still clothed groin to her rear. She pushed back against him and he moaned himself at the pressure against his still trapped erection.

“Tell me, Shepard. What do you want?” he whispered in her ear as he leaned over her, one of his clawed hands pressing to the console beside her shoulder. His other hand came up to press against her bra, tracing the outline of a nipple with one of his talons.

“Inside,” she gasped out. She groaned again as he pinched her nipple through the fabric of her bra, something else she had told him human women liked. “I want you inside.”

He moved behind her, clawed hands running along her sides, when an alarm sounded on the console beside them. She jumped and Garrus pulled away from her as if he had been burned.

“Wait, what?” he began, confused and momentarily disorientated, before turning his head towards the flight navigator display to see what it was.

“Shit!” she swore. In one smooth move she had her underwear back up. “That’s the proximity warning!” she exclaimed. She turned around to stare up at him, her eyes wide with fright like they had been their first meeting… when he stuck a pistol in her face. “Garrus, there’s another ship out there.”

.


	10. Citadel

.

Day 4

.

She recognized that sound the moment she heard it. It wasn’t a good sound. It meant there was someone approaching, and, as they were in a human frigate, _that_ usually meant very bad and often turian news.

He moved the moment she spoke. He dodged into the flight navigator chair and she went for the diagnostic terminal, all thoughts of a sexy romp with her turian companion completely gone with the adrenaline rush of knowing there was another ship approaching.

That was bad news. That was deadly news, especially in a solar system like this one where the Alliance didn’t have colonies established already.

“Get dressed,” he threw at her. “I’ve got this,” and he did, his fingers flying over the controls. “If those are turians…”

Yeah okay, it’d be bad if turians showed up and she was half dressed, though she was fairly sure they’d just shoot them before they noticed her lack of clothes. Even so, she got up and pulled her fatigues and shirt on in a matter of seconds, settling into the chair as the alarms continued to blare. “Status,” she called out, swiping through the commands, checking all systems. There was the ship on her sensor output, a red blotch to their left flank. A quick glance told her he had a 3D visual up in front of him.

“Maybe Krogan…” he hesitated, turning the model about. “No wait, this is a batarian ship,” he sounded surprised. “What are they doing this far out?” he asked.

“I don’t know who those are, but the turians aren’t the only aliens who fire on us,” she returned. She called up the same visual as him and swore. “Okay, yes, that ship is bad news,” she told him. The ship in front of her on the screen was big, the frigate wouldn’t have much of a chance if they fired on them.

“When did humans make enemies with the _batarians_?” he sounded beyond surprised.

“How should I know,” she snarled back at him. “We probably put a colony down where they wanted to. It’s not like anyone ever stops to TALK to us about what we’re doing wrong!”

“Okay, okay,” he replied quickly and dismissively. “I’m going to evasive manoeuvres. We still don’t have FTL, so unless they break off...” about a second later the entire ship rocked with a force that she knew was weapons fire. “Damn it!” he swore.

“Can we fire back?” she asked over the din.

“It won’t do any good! Not on a ship that size!” the ship rocked again, and he jabbed a finger at a button on the console in front of him.

“This is Garrus Vakarian of the 7th turian fleet. This vessel is under our control. We demand that you cease fire immediately,” she turned to stare at him, and then at the viewscreen, drawing in a deep breath as she realized she could see the batarian vessel now. It was coming about.

He swore again, and the ship groaned as he manoeuvred it sharply away from the other ship. The attacking vessel went out of view again, though her diagnostic monitor showed where they were.

The ship rocked a third time and this time she could hear the screech of metal on metal. A red warning light popped up on her screen. The hull would be compromised if they took another hit…

“Damn it, Garrus, we need to get out of here!” she called out. “We can’t take any more!”

At the same time she felt the floor buck under her and the distinct sound of weapon fire from their own ship.

“Direct hit on their starboard side,” he said, sounding momentarily smug. There was a brief pause. “No change. They’re coming about.”

“ _Garrus_!” she shouted. She knew the frigate’s guns didn’t stand a chance, no matter how much he had modified them. He knew it too, or he should, he spent so much damn time with them.

“Activating FTL drive,” he replied tersely.

There was a grinding sound and then a lurch and suddenly the entire viewscreen lit up with a mass effect field. The red flashing lights on her terminal vanished, as did the sensor that showed where the other ship was. They were out of range.

She heaved a sigh and sat back. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the mass relay,” he returned. “If we can just get far enough away maybe we can those batarian bastards off our tail...”

“How long do we have until the drive dies,” she asked. He was silent for a moment as he tapped in long line of commands into his terminal.

She got to her feet, watching the light flashes that came with an active drive. She had only seen this twice, low ranking soldiers usually geared up in the cargo bay or remained off of the flight deck during travel.

“FTL drive levels are nearing critical, as I predicted,” he sounded stressed. “Core vent in progress. If they choose to pursue…”

She turned to him suddenly. “If we die in the next few minutes, I want to tell you it was a pleasure to meet you.”

 He paused in typing into the console for half a second to take in her words, before continuing. “We’re not going to die.”

“But if we do…”

“Damn it, Shepard, we’re not going to die!” he snapped at her.

She didn’t reply but she did go ramrod straight. She turned sharply and went back to the diagnostic terminal and sat down in it, eyes narrowed as she began to look up the hull damages. Near breech in the cargo area, but it was holding…

He was silent for about thirty seconds before he spoke up. “I apologize,” he said quietly. “That was… uncalled for.”

“It’s fine,” she replied, her own voice clipped with barely suppressed anger. “Concentrate on flying the ship.”

He did so without comment. She felt it before she saw it, a lurch, and then the entire viewscreen dimmed.

“We’re losing the FTL drive,” he said. “We’re…” she looked up as he trailed off, and saw what he saw as they dropped back into normal space. “It’s done, Shepard.”

There was a white blot on the horizon in a very familiar shape and she heard him sigh with relief.

“Electrostatic ion engine online,” he announced. “Ten minutes to relay.”

“Can we go any faster?” she asked.

“No. Well… hmm, maybe,” he replied, hands flying over the controls. “Hopefully they broke off pursuit.”

Nothing showed up on her diagnostic screen, except for a small icon that indicated where the mass effect relay was. She got up out of her chair and went to stand beside him, her worried gaze focused on the relay. It was growing larger by degrees, but right now it seemed to be agonizingly far away. She knew for a fact the other ship could drop out of FTL any moment and attack them again… one more shot and they’d be done.

He reached out and touched her arm, sliding his hand down to her own. She was still angry but… if they did die in the next couple minutes, she didn’t want to go out with hard feelings, especially after all he had done to keep her alive. She half smiled and took his hand in her own, giving it a small squeeze. It didn’t last very long, he reclaimed that hand, and continued to type commands into the console in front of him. “I can get a bit more power out of the ion engine, but it might cripple it permanently. The humans don’t need this frigate to work ever again, do they?” there was the barest hint of humor in his voice.

She almost smiled at that, and at the fact that they were about to destroy their salvation.

“Do it,” she replied. “As long as we can make it to the Citadel.”

He nodded. Seconds later the engine, a constant hum under her feet, kicked up a gear, protesting with a whine. The ship seemed to tremble under her feet. She shifted and stared at the relay.

Come on, come on. She turned again and took her seat again, checking out the readouts from the system. The one for the engine flashed red over and over again, though she didn’t know if that was for the burnt out FTL drive or for the ion engine.

“Five minutes to the relay,” he said. “No sign of the batarians,” he added.

“Garrus,” she began, eyes focused on the flashing red light. “Maybe…”

“We’re going to make it, Shepard,” he said, and now his voice was calm and controlled. “Ion engine is holding stable.”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out again.

“Four minutes to relay,” he said.

“Garrus,” she spoke up again and urgently, realizing this was happening far more quickly than she had expected. “We never really discussed what will happen when we get to the Citadel. What’s going to happen to me?”

“You?” he sounded surprised, and turned his head to look at her. “I imagine they’ll interrogate you, like I said. Just tell them the truth, as much as you want to, or all of it. It’s your choice. I can’t get into much more trouble than I am already in,” he chuckled, then stopped to continue. “You will…” he hesitated. “C-Sec… the police force I mentioned… they are, ahh, mostly turians. You’ll probably be questioned by them. Be stubborn. Demand to see your ambassador. Insist they can’t do anything to you. The Citadel is a safe place, or it should be. The council wants to bring your species into the fold, show you what this galaxy has to offer. It would be very bad if a human soldier comes asking for help and winds up dead.”

“Will I ‘wind up dead’?” there was a chill in her voice now. If he was leading her to a trap after all…

He turned around and looked at her. “If they so much as touch a hair on your head, I’ll make sure every species in this galaxy finds out about it.”

She felt a flush touch her cheeks. “That sounds rather extreme, Vakarian,” she drawled.

He huffed and sat back in his chair, mandibles flaring out in a grin. “What can I say, I’m rather partial to you.”

“I should hope so,” she returned lightly. Her brow knit. “Let’s hope this doesn’t go badly, then,” she added, not quite able to keep the apprehension out of her voice.

“It shouldn’t,” he replied and went back to the console. The relay was much closer now and she could feel the tight nervousness in her chest release just a bit.

She tapped her fingers against the panel in front of her. “What will happen to you when we arrive? Will they take you away? Lock you up for being a traitor?” she asked.

“Hmm, not sure,” he replied. “There is a chance they will. Probably not _locked up_ , but I will need to be debriefed. It just depends on whether they decide to do it the moment I step foot on the dock or if they let me go see my father first.”

“And I won’t see you again after that,” she continued, trying not to feel a pang of loss and failing miserably.

He turned around again. “Perhaps not,” he said, pale blue eyes searching hers. “But, again, if this damn war ever ends, Shepard, look me up. You know my name. If they’ll still let me apply after all this, I’ll be working for C-Sec. Maybe I’ll even reapply for Spectre training, I was nearly recruited for that once.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. He had never mentioned anything like this before. She didn’t even know what that was. “And what, exactly, is a Spectre?” she asked.

He laughed at that. “If the war ends, you’ll find out soon enough,” he turned back to the console. “One minute to mass relay,” he said, and when she looked up again she saw the relay took up nearly the entire viewscreen. “Checking coordinates. … done. Relay jump secure. Forty-five seconds. Thirty…”

She watched until the light from the relay caught the ship and became too bright to stare at any longer. Only then did she shut her eyes.

.

When she opened her eyes again she saw that they were surrounded by a pink and yellow haze, with only a glimmer of space beyond that. In front of their viewscreen was what looked like a giant space station, with several arms flared out on all sides of a rounded base.

She let out an exclamation of surprise and got out of her seat, coming over to stare at it. She didn’t realize how big it was until she spotted tiny ships, flying in and out of that station.

Garrus glanced up at her and flared his mandibles again in a grin, before tapping a command sequence into his panel.

“This is Garrus Vakarian of the 7th turian fleet. This is a generalized distress call. This ship is heavily damaged. Requesting emergency dock.”

There was static for a long moment, then a reply came crackling over the com. “Message received. You’re on a human vessel, Vakarian, and our reports are coming in stating that you’re, uh, deceased,” the owner of the voice sounded beyond confused. “Please advise.”

“I assure you, reports of my death are greatly exaggerated,” Garrus sounded amused now. “The base I was on was attacked, I escaped with a human prisoner,” he held up a hand to the sharp look she sent him. “The only available transport off of the planet was this one, but the FTL drive is burnt out. We just spent four days limping to the relay.”

“Understood,” said the voice. “Do you have the human prisoner with you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Garrus replied.

“What condition are they in?”

Now Garrus pulled back with an expression of surprise on his face. “She’s unharmed, and standing right next to me,” he said. He turned to Shepard and gestured to her.

She cleared her throat. “This is Lieutenant Jane Shepard, Alliance Navy,” she said, her voice clear and strong.

There was a pause from the other side of the com. “It’s a pleasure to hear from you, Lieutenant. Your presence in Citadel space is unexpected.”

“I’m a prisoner of war,” Shepard replied dryly. “There’s a turian piloting my ship.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can do about that,” the voice sounded warm and welcoming, surprisingly enough, with just a hint of laughter to it. “Please hold, someone will be back with you shortly,” there was a click and the line went dead.

Garrus sat back. “So far, so good,” he said, sounding slightly smug.

“Why were they concerned about me?” Shepard asked, genuinely baffled.

“Oh,” Garrus waved a dismissive hand in the air. “They probably don’t want an incident in Citadel space.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. At the same time the com clicked back on with an audible click.

“Alliance vessel, come in,” this voice was not the same as before and Shepard startled despite herself. It had been days since she last heard a turian voice that wasn’t Garrus’. She looked at him, only to see he had gone ramrod straight.

“What…” she began, only to have Garrus tap on the console, activating the com.

“Uhhh… hey there… Dad,” he said sheepishly.

Shepard drew in a deep breath and nearly let it out again in a laugh. The way Garrus was almost cringing was hilarious. He looked like a kid, which he was, she reminded herself. He looked caught, like he had been doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. That was at least somewhat true.

“Garrus, reports have come in that the base on Kruljaven is a blackened hole in the ground. I’m grateful you’re still alive, but on an Alliance vessel? With a human?”

“It’s… a long story, Dad. She was… my responsibly. We were the only survivors and the only way off the planet was in this ship.”

“You should have just stayed where you were and waited for help, Garrus,” his father replied, sounding disapproving. “Sensors indicate that frigate you’re in has seen recent fire damage. Is everything okay?”

“All systems are stable,” Shepard spoke up, glancing over at the diagnostic terminal. “We wouldn’t have been able to take another hit, though.”

Garrus sat back in his chair and sent her a look she couldn’t interpret. Guilt, maybe?

“Well, that answers that question,” the elder Vakarian said. “Glad you’re alive.”

‘Me?’ she mouthed at Garrus, pointing to herself. Garrus nodded in reply. “Thank you, sir,” Shepard returned out loud. “Your son saved my life.”

“It was a… joint effort,” Garrus cut in.

“I see,” was the reply. There was far more behind those two words, she was sure, but Garrus’ father didn’t elaborate.

Garrus twitched. “Dad, I need your help,” he said.

“I imagine you’ll need that and more. Do you have any idea how much… _explaining_ this will take,” the elder Vakarian sounded exasperated now.

“I know that,” Garrus pressed his hand to his forehead as he continued to talk into the intercom. “Can you help me?”

“What is the request?” Garrus’ father still sounded somewhat unhappy and Shepard wondered exactly how much history was between the two of them. Probably a lot, given what she knew about parents… then again she’d never had them herself…

“Shepard. I promised I’d return her to her people unharmed. I knew there are humans on the Citadel, can you get her to them for me?”

There was silence for a moment. “Probably, but I’m not exactly the person who can approve that request. You know that,” Shepard bit her lip at that, that didn’t sound good. “I’m going to clear you to dock. After that we’re going to have a long talk,” the dual-toned voice sounded sharp and irritated, but then it warmed when he said the next bit. “I’m sure she’ll be returned to her people unharmed, son. She’s already survived this long; the Citadel isn’t going to finish the job.”

.

She dodged back to the crew quarters while they docked in order to pull on her uniform, tripping over the nest as she did so. She winced at it, but as she felt the ship buck with docking clamps she realized she didn’t have time to fix it. She ran all the way down to the cargo bay.

She stopped abruptly on the threshold, taking in the damage in the room. Some of the crates had come loose from their boltings on the floor and had tipped over. There were fine cracks along the far wall.

 He was standing by the airlock, waiting for her. She stepped up to him, and smiled as he took her hand in his own. “I want you to know whatever happens, Shepard, I…” he trailed off, and seemed at a loss for words.

She slid her fingers along the side of his face, feeling the surprisingly warm plates shift under her finger tips. “I know,” she replied. “Thanks again, for everything.”

He tilted his head. “Can I…”

“Yes,” she replied, and kissed him back when he bent his head to do so.

He drew away seconds later, but not before nuzzling her a moment longer, coasting his left mandible over her cheek.

It was in that moment she realized that her poor turian companion was probably in love. There was a tenderness to the way he touched her. A longing, more than just saying good-bye, or even just saying good-bye forever. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t intended it, but it wasn’t exactly unwelcome. It would probably be the last time she saw him after all. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again, putting all she could behind it.

“Remember me,” she said when she pulled away.

He chuckled as he let her go. “Trust me, Shepard, it would be more than difficult to forget you,” he twined his fingers with hers one last time before letting go and turning to the control panel for the airlock. “Shall we?” he asked.

She nodded and he pressed the button to open up the bay door.

.

Shepard tried not to let her nervousness show, straightening her spine and putting a clip to her walk as she exited the ship. She stopped abruptly despite herself when she saw who was there to greet them. A turian and two aliens she had never seen before stood there.

The turian would have made her feel nervous, if it wasn’t for the fact that his face tattoos happened to be the same as Garrus’. She spared a glance at her companion. If anything he looked more nervous than she felt. The other two aliens… one was female with pretty blue skin, and the other… he kind of looked like a frog with horns. He was also dressed in the same uniform as the elder Vakarian and had a pistol at his side… probably a police officer then.

“Garrus,” that was Vakarian, stepping forward and now she felt a small hint of nervousness. He stopped in front of her, sparing her a glance. “And you must be Lieutenant Shepard.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. She held out her hand, before realizing her mistake. A turian wouldn’t know how to shake hands in greeting… which was why it shocked her even more when he took it and shook it.

“We’ve had humans here before, Shepard,” he said in response to the expression on her face. He let go of her hand and gestured to the two aliens behind him. “Officer Ciluso, C-Sec. He’s a salarian. I realize you probably haven’t seen one before.”

She shook her head. The salarian waved at her awkwardly from where he stood.

Elder Vakarian gestured to the woman beside the officer. “Nurse Ruava,” he said.

“I’m an asari,” the nurse called out, and smiled. Shepard liked her automatically. There was nothing threatening about the woman at all. It didn’t hurt that she looked nearly entirely human, if not for the color of her skin and the fact that her hair seemed to just be pointed shapes flowing out of the back of her head.

“They’ll be accompanying you to the hospital to perform a series of routine checks,” Vakarian continued. “If you’d like, this would be a good time to say good-bye.”

“Thank you,” she said. She turned to Garrus, who gave her a searching look. Nothing in his expression told her she was in danger. There wasn’t even another turian around, except for the one related to him. “Good-bye, Garrus,” she said, feeling ridiculously formal. She really just wanted to put her arms around him again and kiss him, but she had a feeling his father wouldn’t approve in the slightest.

“Farewell, Shepard,” he returned, and his voice went out of sync as he said it. There was something else there, something to their language that she wasn’t able to hear, because the elder Vakarian gave his son a very sharp look. He swallowed and when he spoke again the flanging was nearly gone. “Safe travels to you.”

“Stay out of trouble,” she replied.

 He nodded and she turned and stepped down towards the two aliens. The asari woman smiled at her again.

“Follow me, please,” officer Ciluso said, his words rapid and high pitched. Shepard nodded and the two aliens flanked her as they stepped down the hall.

She glanced back at him as they led her away. As she watched Garrus raised his hand towards her and gave a tentative little wave before dropping it again and turning to his father.

.

She followed silently between the two aliens as they made their way down a series of white halls. The salarian was suspiciously silent, but the nurse was chatty. “I’ve never seen a human up close before,” she said cheerfully. “Our medical records say your species can eat the same food as us, and we share a lot of the same physiology.”

“Well, at least I know I won’t starve here,” she joked and the woman laughed.

They spent what seemed like an abnormally long time on the elevator, only to emerge in an alien hospital. Alien because it was full of races and colors she hadn’t ever seen before (was that a floating jellyfish?) and hospital because apparently hospitals, even alien ones, seemed to all look the same, sterile and bright.

“Follow me, please,” nurse Ruava said, leading her down a hallway full of salarians and asari dressed in white. Some of them raised their heads to watch her, a couple looked confused. She even saw a turian there, behind a counter, though he kept his head down and completely ignored her.

The nurse led her to a room with frosted windows. There was a pristine white bed in the center of the room, surrounded by computers and machines. She didn’t miss how the salarian officer posted himself right outside her door, a moment before that door slid shut.

For the first time Shepard felt a sliver of nervousness. It abated somewhat when the nurse smiled at her warmly. “Please, lay down,” the woman picked up something off of a counter, a thin rod, and came over to her. “Relax, please. This won’t hurt.”

She pressed the rod to her arm. Shepard felt a slight pinch.

“Wait,” Shepard protested, trying to sit up and only somewhat succeeding. The nurse stepped back a couple of feet. She felt a wave of exhaustion hit her like being hit by truck. “What was that?” Shepard demanded to know. “Did you DRUG me?”

“Something to help you sleep while we check you for injuries, of course,” the asari said pleasantly. She looked up at Shepard, her eyes wide and green. “You’ll be completely safe here, I promise you.”

Shepard felt her eyes starting to close, and alarm coursed through her. “I’d tell you anything you needed to know while I was conscious!” she protested loudly. “You didn’t have to drug…” she trailed off as she slumped to the side and the nurse guided her to lie down again.

“Rest now. You’ll be back up and about in no time.”

That was the last thing Shepard remembered hearing before she lost consciousness.

.


	11. End

.

The walk C-Sec was quiet and uncomfortable. “How’s mom and Solana?” Garrus asked, trying to strike up conversation and genuinely concerned for his mother and sister. He’d been declared dead, after all. He hadn’t expected that.

“They’re fine, Garrus,” his father replied. “Overjoyed, probably, now that I’ve sent word. Your mother was devastated by the news.”

‘And yet you are here and not there with her,’ Garrus thought, but he didn’t say it.

“I see,” Garrus said out loud. “I didn’t mean to worry her,” he added. He didn’t know what to say, or what was there to say after that. “What happened?” he asked, changing the subject. “Did we send scouts to Kruljaven?”

The Elder Vakarian nodded. “Two days ago, after three days of no communication. The base was a crater. It was a surgical strike. They were probably hired to leave no one left alive. You were declared dead upon their return.”

“Do we know why?” Garrus asked.

A head shake. “Though, your report might help.”

Garrus was running through the possibilities in his head. The batarians had attacked them near the relay… it was possible that they had an unknown interest in the solar system and both the humans and the turians were encroaching on what they claimed as their own. He said as much. His father agreed.

“We’ll contact the batarian government for further information,” the elder Vakarian said.

“I have the rest of my report uploaded on my omni-tool,” Garrus said finally. “As well as the main logs on the frigate.”

His father was already typing away into his own omni-tool, exchanging messages back and forth. “We already have your report,” he said. “Crews are going through that frigate right now.”

Garrus went rigid, his reeling at the implications of that. The nest. The nest was intact. That was the single most incriminating…. maybe she disassembled it. Or maybe they’d just think it was some sort of human thing.

… If they ran a scanner anywhere near that bed he’d be in so much trouble… then again he was fairly sure his father already knew, he saw that look he gave him at the dock.

His father sighed. “We do have a lot to talk about, Garrus. There are some political things happening here, very important changes. I can’t tell you anything until you’re debriefed. We need a solid timeline.”

 That was… strange. “Understood,” he replied, curious despite himself.

“What matters is the human was unharmed… your _interest_ in her aside,” and there was that sharp look again, the one that made Garrus cringe. Yes, he knew.

“I never hurt her,” he replied, a bit more harshly than perhaps he intended. That, at least, was true.

“That isn’t the question,” the elder Vakarian said, and left it at that. “You should have waited for back up,” he continued, changing the subject.

“I couldn’t,” Garrus returned, feeling trapped.

“You could have,” his father replied. “You chose not to. Instead you took a disabled Alliance ship and making a foolish decision to pilot it through hostile space. And I’m just to believe you were unable to send a message to the fleet while on it.”

“I thought it was for the best.”

 “Best? If you sent out a signal the scout ship would have been able to pick you up before you were attacked. You barely made it to the relay. You would have _both_ died,” Garrus was silent and his father pressed on. “You didn’t consider all the facts, Garrus, you never do. You always rush headfirst into everything.”

“If I sent out a distress call and the fleet came to pick us up they wouldn’t have let her live. I didn’t want to _lose her_.”

“She was never yours to lose.”

His father’s words felt like a punch to the gut.

Garrus drew in a deep breath, aching as he spoke. “They put me in change of cleaning her, feeding her, making sure she didn’t die,” he said, his voice low. “I did that, didn’t I? I did what I was supposed to do.” He left out the part about betraying everything he had been taught to do. His words sounded like an excuse, even to him.

There was something a little less harsh in his father’s eyes now as he looked him over. “Technically, yes,” he said finally. “Though you went about it the wrong way, and now you will suffer the consequences,” he sighed. “You’re very lucky everything happened the way it did.”

They had reached C-Sec by then, effectively ending the conversation. Garrus silently followed his father inside.

.

They put him in a cell. He had told her it was a possibility that he’d be locked up, but he still didn’t expect that it might actually happen. Here he was though, sitting in a C-Sec holding cell, hands in his lap. His father had left, after making sure he had something to eat.

Hours passed. He investigated. It didn’t take him long to realize he was in an information vacuum. He hadn’t spoken to anyone but his father since his return. He couldn’t access anything on his omni-tool, even the Citadel News Network wasn’t available inside the cell.

He couldn’t help but to think that something was terribly wrong.

He tried not to get agitated and failed miserably. He ended checking out the cell, testing every bit of wall, up and down, not necessarily looking for a way out, but more for a reprieve and to keep his mind off of things.

Was he in so much trouble, just for saving her? Turning his back on a base his father had already confirmed was a blackened hole in the ground? Was his military career completely over, like he had feared?

More importantly, was she okay? If this was happening to him, what was happening to her?

It was nearly six hours later when two C-Sec officers came to lead him to a room to be questioned, it was a welcome relief to escape from his own spiraling dark thoughts.

.

His questioners were an older officer named Pallin and a rookie named Chellick. He sat attentively as Pallin took the table across from him, and Chellick stood nearby. Chellick was young, maybe only a couple years older than himself, Officer Pallin looked to be about the same age as his father.

“We’ve gathered the reports from the base on Kruljaven before it was attacked, and have read your own report,” Pallin said finally, folding his hands in front of him. His voice was deep and authoritative. “We’d like to hear your side of the story, Vakarian.”

“What do you want to know?” Garrus asked.

“Everything about that human in particular, and everything that you can tell us about the attack.”

He told them all he could of his side of the situation. He told them about her, how he captured her while she was wounded, and about how the Hierarchy delayed her execution order. He told them everything he had already written in his report about how he was spared because he had been put in charge of taking care of her, and how they worked together to escape. Lastly, he told them how they used the Alliance frigate to make it to the relay.

“I don’t know much about that attack on the base,” Garrus admitted when he was done. “They looked like pirates or mercenaries and there were far too many of them to go back to fight them alone. Krogan and Vorcha mostly. I got her, and I got out and I didn’t go back there.”

“And batarians attacked the Alliance frigate earlier today,” Pallin said. He exchanged a significant look with Chellick and the younger turian typed something into his omni-tool.

“Yes,” Garrus replied.

“Good,” Pallin shifted and continued, his intense eyes studying Garrus. “Three days ago you were…?”

“In the Alliance frigate, as I said, heading for the mass relay.”

“Why?”

“Why… what?” Garrus replied. He wasn’t trying to be difficult. He wanted to be as clear as possible.

“Why did you take her with you?”

Garrus hesitated, but only for a moment. “Because I told her she’d be safe, and that I’d take her to the Citadel.”

Pallin glanced up at his companion and now Chellick spoke up, continuing with the questioning. “Why did you promise her she’d be safe?” he asked. “As far as you knew she was an enemy to you, a potential threat at the very least. She could have easily attacked you once she was on familiar ground, like that of her ship.”

Garrus forced his mandibles flat and refused to let anything show, especially how tense that statement made him feel. He knew that. He had considered the possibility often enough. But she hadn’t.

“She trusted me,” he said.

“Why?” that was back to Pallin again.

Again, with the why and Garrus found himself floundering for an explanation. “I suppose because I brought her food when she was a prisoner. I listened to her when she wanted to talk,” the two officers exchanged looks. “I took care of her. I was _under orders_ to take care of her.”

There was a pause as both officers noted something on their omni-tools. Garrus knew he was being recorded by both of them. He knew this was going to be sent back to the military, and that every word he spoke was potentially getting him into more trouble.

 Pallin stopped first and clasped his talons in front of his face, fixing Garrus with a steely glaze. Surprisingly, he changed the subject. “The reports from the base say that she was sexually assaulted by turians while there, and you witnessed the encounter.”

Garrus let out a hiss he couldn’t keep to himself and sat back in his chair. “I did,” he said quietly, trying his best not to feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t anything against him, it was a simple fact. It happened. He had left it out of his report because it was irrelevant, but he had noted that he had to clean her up.

“When did this assault take place? How many days ago?”

Garrus did some quick calculations in his head. She was in the base for six days, raped on the second, then they spent a night out in the open and another four on the Alliance frigate. “Eight or nine days ago,” he said.

Another exchange of looks and more typing on the omni-tools. That was… odd. He hadn’t been involved with the assault. He didn’t feel it was something he should be questioned on.

“I’m sorry,” Garrus said quickly, sitting forward. “Is there something I’m missing here? I realize I’m in trouble for abandoning my squad and coming to the Citadel with her, but we’re at _war_. It may not be common, but soldiers assaulting enemy soldiers isn’t exactly news. The reports were filed. The soldiers that raped her are dead.”

 Both officers exchanged significant glances, though officer Pallin was the one to speak up first.

“Garrus Vakarian, _you_ are not dead,” he said, his deep voice thick with displeasure.

Garrus thought his heart would stop as the implications of those words set in. He sat up straight, his voice dropping dangerously. “I _never_ raped her,” he growled out.

Pallin picked up the datapad in front of him, and tapped in a few commands before getting up and handing it to Garrus.

Garrus skimmed it quickly. It was a medical report, taken a couple short hours before. He felt numb as he began to read over the words, which was quickly replaced with profound disquiet. _Bullet entry wound, healed. Lacerations caused by sharp object, multiple. Healed. Lacerations to vaginal walls, healed. Minor abrasions to vaginal walls, fresh._   He kept reading, trying to keep the rising horror at bay. _Genetic material, matched to Garrus Vakarian._

He put down the datapad very carefully, trying to will his hands not to shake and only managing to do so slightly. They knew. They knew _everything_. “She was willing,” he repeated, but even to him his voice sounded weak.

Officer Pallin sat back with a sigh, sounding like someone who was forced to hear protests from suspects far too often. “Did she say she was interested?” he asked.

“Yes!” Garrus exclaimed. “She is the one who suggested…” he pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to calm his swirling thoughts and dawning horror. Abrasions… he didn’t mean… she had always used that bottle of stuff that she had the first day, didn’t she? Or did she? Sometimes she didn’t apply it to him but he went in so easily he was sure she was using it on herself. Was he accidentally hurting her without even intending to?

“I always asked,” he said finally. “I never took. I wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” that was Chellick now, and Garrus glanced up at him, surprised at the line of questioning, until he realized the other turian was playing the devil’s advocate. There was no malice on the other turian’s face. That didn’t make him feel any better, and the question was still horrific. For some reason that bothered him more than anything, more than this interrogation, almost as much as anything he had gone through with her.

“Because it isn’t right. Sure, we’re at war with the humans, but what gives us permission to torture a helpless prisoner? I can understand using, ah, force against a suspect or a criminal but her only crime was being a soldier in an army that wasn’t ours…” he sat back and drew a deep breath. He was coming dangerously close to speaking treason. Rather, he already had. “She should have been executed,” he said briskly. “Once they determined there was nothing to be gained from her she should have been killed,” that would have been a decision he could have stood behind. No matter his feelings for her, it was the right decision under the circumstances.

“Yet she wasn’t, and she was abused while under turian care,” Pallin said quietly. “Until you came along and did the same.”

“I NEVER HURT HER!” Garrus stood at that, his voice reverberating through the room.

Pallin sat calmly. Garrus clenched his hands into fists and regained control of himself, enough to sit quietly back in the chair. He put his hands in front of him and sat there, waiting until he was calm enough to speak. Pallin waited as well.

This would be the part, if he were guilty, he’d have said everything he was guilty of. So he did.

“I cared about her far more than I should have. I tried my best not to show it in any way. I didn’t want to put that on her. I know… I knew humans are different than us. I knew she’d be suspicious of me, of anything I did to try to help her, but she… I admired her. She seemed so strong. If I didn’t let her out of that cell a mercenary would have killed her. When I let her go, she stayed with me. She convinced me to go with her and not avenge my garrison. Everyone was already dead… I didn’t think I’d suffer more than a reprimand. Even if I ended up in a lot of trouble… she needed me. When the batarians attacked the frigate I was able to maneuver us safely. She’d have been dead, twice over if it wasn’t for me. I couldn’t…” he fumbled to a stop and valiantly forced himself to keep going. “When she suggested we… do _that_ , I resisted at first. She said it didn’t matter to her and I believed her. I let her do what she wanted. She didn’t betray me, she never did. If I hurt her, it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Did you consider that perhaps she might be manipulating you?” officer Pallin asked quietly. “In order to ensure your co-operation and her continued wellbeing?”

Garrus shut his eyes, pained for a moment. He opened them slowly. “Even if that is true,” he replied. “I was already on her ship heading for the Citadel. Why would she feel it _necessary_?”

Pallin’s mandibles flared. “We don’t know,” he said. “She’s unconscious and unable to respond to questioning, but that is one of the things we will have the doctor ask her.”

Wait…

Garrus nearly stood again at that. “Why is she unconscious?” he demanded to know.

“Watch yourself, Vakarian,” Pallin replied, irritation in his voice now. “That report in front of you is part of the reason. Another is she merely needs time to filter the administered drug out of her system. She’ll be up on her feet again in no time. Not,” and he gave Garrus a sharp look. “That she is your concern any longer. Consider your orders rescinded. Your are no longer in charge of her in any way.”

“I’m aware of that, sir,” Garrus said, quiet now. He didn’t need to be re-reminded of that fact.

“There is something further, soldier,” Pallin said, typing something on his omni-tool. It faded away, the debriefing was over. “Now that we’re done here…” he gestured for the datapad he gave to Garrus earlier, and Garrus slid it back to him. He typed in a series of commands before handing it back to Garrus.

It was a news report. Official. ‘Citadel News Network’ was blazoned across the top.

_Peace, brokered between the human Alliance and the turian fleet three days ago…_

He reread it again. And a third time. This time he couldn’t help the way his hands shook as he slowly put down the datapad. “Three days…” he said, his mouth dry.

“There was a reason why her life was _spared_ ,” Pallin said briskly, giving Garrus the impression he didn’t exactly approve. “The talks were already quite far along when she was captured. Official word is that the Hierarchy didn’t want to jeopardize the peace efforts by ending her life.”

Garrus head spun. Peace. _Peace._ She was no longer his enemy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he wasn’t even angry, just shocked.

“Because we needed your testimony,” Pallin replied. “Her injuries are suspect and you potentially coerced her into sexual relations after the peace agreement was signed. That’s a violation of a galactic-wide treaty, Vakarian.”

Garrus shook his head. “I had no way of knowing,” he said. “But I know I never coerced her into anything,” his hands were clenched so hard he could feel his talons digging into his skin. Shit. This was… his overwhelming joy at finding out the war was over was overshadowed by anxiety. She was unconscious in a hospital. What if she had been manipulating him, though he doubted it…

What if she was _angry_? The war was over, had ended only a week after every one of her squadmates had been shot and she had been tortured. He’d be angry. He’d be furious. He’d want someone to answer for what had been done to him.

He realized with a cold note of finality as his father’s words came back to him.

_‘She wasn’t yours to lose.’_

She was never his to begin with.

.

They released him an hour or so after that, once the paperwork was signed and dotted and processed properly. His father drove him back to his small apartment, and the entire ride there was tense. Garrus stared out the window, at the wards below, mind still whirling.

Peace. The word repeated in his head over and over again.

“They told you about the war,” his father spoke up.

“Yeah,” Garrus replied shortly.

“Look, Garrus, I know you’re upset,” the elder Vakarian said with a sigh. “But you did the right thing. She’s alive because of you, you saved her life and that reflects well on your character, especially in light of recent political… developments.”

“I know,” Garrus said, and he did. He knew he saved her and that she was wonderfully, gloriously alive. In light of the war ending it couldn’t be anything but a good thing… except…

“I can understand why you did what you did, even if I don’t approve,” he continued and Garrus looked up at him. Officer Vakarian held up a hand as if to ward off protest. “You acted with your conscience and did what you thought was right. Your reprimand will be relatively light. I imagine they’ll even let you back into the fleet right away, if you want to go back.”

“That’s good,” Garrus said, and looked back out of the cab again.

His father cleared his throat and continued. “In regards to her, I looked over your report before I came, I don’t see anything there that will incriminate you, even with the new information from her, ah, tests,” he said. “The negotiations will continue between our people without any _blight_ brought on by your association with her. Hopefully, pending we can keep your little liaison between the two of you a discreet footnote, there will be nothing they can hold against you either.”

“Against me? Against… we were _together_ , Dad,” Garrus exploded. “You can’t just ignore that and hope it goes away!” He clenched his hands into fists.

 That was shock on his father’s face now. He had never yelled at him like that before. “Garrus, what…” he began.

“I care about her,” Garrus said, much quieter now. “She’s _important_ to me. What we had wasn’t a… a _blight_ or a footnote, and it’s not something I can just _forget_.”

Understanding dawned on the elder Vakarian’s face. “Your outburst is uncalled for,” there was a coldness to his father’s voice now. “You’re being irrational and you’re not thinking clearly. She’s just a human. You’re nineteen years old, not even old enough to start looking for a long-term turian mate, let alone whatever this is you think you have with her…”

“I want to see her,” Garrus spoke up, interrupting the talk he never ever wanted to have with his father, ever. “If we’re no longer at war, I can see her, can’t I?”

That got him another sharp look. “You _can’t_. She’s under strict observation, and we’ve been ordered to ensure she isn’t approached by any turians, to prevent any undue stress.”

“I’m not any turian,” Garrus argued, but even he could hear the desperation and hopelessness in his voice. The look his father gave him was significant.

“Do you think that’s what she wants?” he said. “She was tortured by turians. Her kind has been at war with ours for most of her life. She’s been trained to hate us. So you had a few days together and acted like the children that you are and now you think it means something more than it did? It was recreational and meaningless, don’t make this into something more than what it was.”

Garrus went back to looking out the window of the cab, down at the Citadel below. She was out there somewhere, and all he wanted was to be with her, to make sure she was okay, and he _couldn’t_.

He shut his eyes, remembering the interrogation with vivid detail, remembering every conversation he ever had with her. Maybe his father was right. She hadn’t given any indication it meant more to her than just a bit of fun. Hell, even she said so herself. It was something to help her forget. Something to put the war behind her for a while… a war that no longer existed.

 Maybe he was being stupid. Maybe it would be best if he never saw her again.

.


	12. Politics

.

She came to, slowly, taking in her surroundings by degrees. She was lying on white sheets, staring up at a white ceiling. She blinked up at that several times, before realizing she was probably still in the same hospital she had come to when she first arrived on the Citadel. The one where that blue skinned alien woman had drugged her.

She sat up, only to discover she was wrong. She was still in a room, but it was a nice one, with a bed and several shelves along the wall. A dresser of some sort sat across from her, as well as a desk with a chair in front of it. There was a comfortable looking couch and two other chairs further into the room. Lastly, along the wall was something that resembled a kitchen, complete with a table with some potted plants in the center of it. To her left was a giant window, showing that she was several stories up, and overlooking a strip of space full of hover cars zipping about. She stared at that for a long moment, before turning her head. There were two doors beside the kitchen area.

She got up, wanting to explore. She was a bit shaky on her feet, woozy, and she nearly stumbled before righting herself, hand clenching the sheets of the bed.

“Come on, Shepard, shake it off,” she muttered. She shook her head to clear it, then waited for the room to stop spinning.

“You’ve got this,” she reassured herself. She pushed off again, making her way to the first door.

It was locked. Of course it was. She turned to the other, opening it to reveal a bathroom. She eyed the tub longingly for a moment, then turned back to the other door.

It was her only way out. She knocked on it. Waited. Knocked harder.

Nothing happened.

“Hello?” She called out cautiously.

“Hello, Lieutenant Shepard,” a disembodied voice replied from the general direction of the ceiling. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Who is this?” she demanded to know.

“I am the Citadel Station VI. How may I be of service today?” it asked.

“Open the door,” Shepard grit out from between her teeth.

“I’m sorry, I am unable to grant that request at this time. Please make another inquiry.”

Shepard inhaled sharply and pounded her fists against the door. She was so done, with everything. She wanted to go home. She had been shot, beaten, raped, nearly killed half a dozen times, and now drugged. She definitely did not want to be a prisoner in a pleasant room with a pleasant computer voice speaking to her. “Open this fucking door! NOW.”

“I’m sorry, I am unable to grant that request at this time. Please make another inquiry.”

She stepped back. “Where is the human ambassador?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, I do not understand the question.”

Well at least that was different. “Who is the human ambassador on this station?”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry, I do not understand the question.”

She was coming very close to flipping her shit.

 “Where is Garrus Vakarian?” she tried, enunciating each word as she did so.

There was a pause. “Garrus Vakarian was last seen on the Presidium Commons.”

Wherever the hell that was…

“Can you bring Garrus here?” she asked, pointing to the floor, though the VI probably couldn’t see her.

“I’m sorry, I am unable to grant that request at this time...”

“Can I send him a message?” she asked, frustrated.

“I’m sorry, I am unable to grant that request at this time...”

“DAMN IT,” she slammed her fists into the locked door again. “Garrus. GARRUS. Let me out of this _FUCKING ROOM_.”

.

Her yelling and pounding on the door must have alerted someone, because within twenty minutes the door slid open. The salarian officer that had greeted her on the docks was there, as well as a turian, though the turian stayed behind by the entrance to the room and did not look at her. She stared at him, both of them, in turn.

“Ma’am,” Officer Ciluso said, holding out his hand towards her. “You are distressed. I understand. Someone will meet with you within the hour, promise. Meanwhile, we’ve asked that food be delivered to you.”

“I want to know why I was drugged and I want to know why I’m still a prisoner.”

“Drugged? No, standard procedure. Not debriefed. Our fault. Should have informed you. Unfortunate…”

It sounded like he was babbling, and the words were almost running together. “Shut up!” she interrupted him. Amazingly he stopped talking. “Fine then,” she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and opened her eyes again. “I want to go home,” she said, as clearly as she could.

He hesitated only a second before starting up again. “Of course. Urge to return to your people completely expected. Soon you will be returned to them. But first, please relax. No security clearance yet. Your every comfort will be provided for until then.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Someone will meet with me within the hour?” she said.

“Indeed,” the salarian replied. “Asari doctor. No drugs. Explain things to you. No tricks, I promise.”

She nodded and he turned, leaving the room. The door slid shut behind him.

She started pacing around the room.

The asari doctor came within a half an hour. She was dressed in a long flowing robe and her skin was a darker shade of blue, almost purple, compared to the one that met her at the dock. Shepard eyed her suspiciously.

“Lieutenant Shepard,” she greeted, stepping forward and holding up a hand in greeting. “I’m doctor Lemi,” she held up a datapad. “I’ve had a chance to review your file. May I sit down?” she asked.

Shepard nodded and gestured to the chair across from the sofa. She bit back a reply that it wasn’t her room or apartment or whatever she was stuck in so she really didn’t care where she sat. It wouldn’t help her position any if she was abrasive and rude. She also realized that she was probably going to be interrogated, it was just unexpectedly by a blue skinned woman, who happened to be an alien. There were worst things, she supposed. At least she wasn’t a turian.

“Thank you,” the asari said as she sat down in the chair. “I think the first thing you need to know is something very important. I hope it will cheer you considerably.”

“What,” Shepard replied as she stepped across the room and sat on the sofa.

The asari smiled again. “The war between the turians and your people ended nearly four days ago,” she said.

Shepard stared. “What,” she said flatly.

“Yes,” Doctor Lemi looked delighted. “I thought you’d appreciate the news.”

She stared blankly, her mind temporarily shutting down. The war… the war had been going on nearly two decades, how could it just be _over_ …? “Does Garrus know?” she asked once she managed to speak again.

It was like a light had turned off. The doctor’s smile faded. “Your turian… ah, companion?” she replied.

“Yes, Garrus Vakarian,” she returned. “I came here with him. Does he know?” she asked. “Did anyone tell him?”

“I’m sure he’s been informed,” the asari doctor said smoothly, making an admirable recovery. “As far as I know he was questioned extensively by C-Sec. Which brings me to why I am here.”

Shepard drew in a deep breath and let it out again. “What happened,” she asked. If Garrus was interrogated and now this doctor was bringing it up…

“We need to discuss, ah, particularities on your medical file,” the asari said kindly. “Namely the fact that it your companion’s genetic material was found on your person…”

She bit back a groan. Of course it was. Of course. When was the last time she showered? The day before… or before that? How long was she out? Either way they had had sex since the last time she showered, she was sure of it. He’d have turned up all over her, incriminating as hell.

“Any abuse you might have suffered at the hands of your turian companion during the three days before reaching the Citadel will be subject to reprimands.”

“He didn’t do anything to me,” she couldn’t keep the frustration out of her voice now. She got what the doctor was implying, but it wasn’t true. She initiated that, all of it.

“Your medical records say otherwise,” the asari replied gently.

“You mean the ones you took, without asking me, after drugging me?” Shepard replied sharply. “It was none of your god-damn business.”

The asari doctor looked affronted for a moment, before leaning forward again. “The tests were approved in part by your ambassador, as well as the committee responsible for the peace treaty,” she said. “There is enough evidence here to cause a serious political incident.”

Shepard grit her teeth at the lack of apology. “He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do.”

“The war is over, you don’t have to…”

“I get that,” Shepard snapped. “I do. The war ended. It doesn’t change what happened. We didn’t know, at least, I assume he didn’t know about the war. We were both in a desperate situation, and it was a bit of stress relief and companionship. I started it. I seduced him. He’s not stupid, he’s young and caring and he helped me out when he didn’t have to. I wanted him because of it. Satisfied?”

The asari blinked, then broke into a brilliant smile that showed asari had teeth like humans did too. “That sounds rather… romantic of you, soldier.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “You’re a doctor?” she questioned, her voice harsh.

“A psychiatrist,” the asari returned smoothly. “I specialize in prescriptions to rare and unknown alien races. My… interests are what led me to this position, and talking to you right now.”

Shepard sighed, and did what she could to calm down before she spoke again. “Look, I appreciate this, but I really just want to go home. Can you do that for me?”

The doctor tapped something into her datapad. “We’re still waiting on clearance from your government,” she said. “But I’m sure you’ll be allowed to explore the Citadel soon. We’re trying to find an appropriate escort for you.”

“I can walk myself,” Shepard pointed out.

The asari woman shook her head. “There are, ah, _issues_ with that. Not all turians on this station have been warned that there is a human soldier here, and a lot of bad feelings still exist. It’s for your safety. I do believe the salarian C-Sec officer has put in a request to be your temporary escort. I think you must have left an impression on him earlier,” she said that with a wink as she got to her feet. “I’ve also put in a request for some food to be sent to your apartment. Some delicacies from my culture.”

“Thank you,” Shepard replied, suddenly extremely drained, but willing to at least play nice. Maybe eventually she’d even stop being a prisoner one day soon, and being escorted about was better than nothing.

.

The asari food was delicious. Shepard ate it, and, after that, watched out the window.

 The Citadel was huge. If there were nearly as many races as she had seen at the hospital she could just imagine them all down below, rushing about, involved in their crazy lives. She smiled to herself despite her exhaustion.

She pressed her hand to the window and thought of him. She understood now, why the turians didn’t kill her, though he hadn’t known why at the time. She was spared because of timing, though it had not fast enough to also spare her squad.

She didn’t like to remember them, those few terrifying nights in that cell, waiting to die. Waiting for him to visit.

She remembered how he stood, nervous and earnest as he tried to understand her. How his hand touched her skin in such a way that it didn’t linger. His cringe when he thought she was going to shoot him, and his surprised bafflement when she didn’t. His fear and weary acceptance when he didn’t trust her, and finally the way he kissed her before they left the cargo bay, like she meant the galaxy to him.

They were safe now, or at least she was safer than she was before, medical tests aside. They had made it. That made a warm feeling of relief well up inside of her that was quickly replaced by despair. They had made it to safety, but now they’d never see each other again. She pressed her forehead against the pane of glass and closed her eyes.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” she muttered. Maybe she felt more for him than she should, but it didn’t change the fact that, at the end of the day, he wasn’t someone she could have. Even with the end of the war, there was nothing that would allow them to be together. She’d have to report back to Earth. Best case scenario - if they didn’t skin him alive because of her medical report - was that he’d be in the military, or here as a police officer. Maybe… MAYBE she could work hard to get herself assigned to the Citadel, especially if their peace treaty involved anything like setting up an embassy. Maybe… one day. In five years. Or ten. But now? It’d never happen. As far as she knew there was only one other human on this space station, and he was an ambassador. She was no ambassador. Public relations were not her thing. She didn’t think she could stand looking another turian in the face for very long without feeling boiling rage, especially if one of them tried to threaten her.

They were individuals of course, each and every one of them, but she had feeling she had a long way to go before she was okay again.

She watched until she realized how tired she was, probably an after effect of being drugged.

She settled into the cool sheets of the bed and continued to watch the hovercrafts rush by the window until she faded into an uneasy sleep.

.

When she awoke again she was alone and thought of him. She wondered where he was. Instead of dwelling on it, she shook her head and forced herself out of bed. She cleaned herself up, bathed, dressed in her uniform which was pressed and placed next to her bed. She explored her surroundings more, but nothing much changed in the day since she last woke up. The garbage went into a disposal chute. The potted plants were watered. She wondered where they were from as they didn’t look like any plants from Earth.

She asked the VI what time it was and got a reply that it was hour nine, Citadel time, whatever that meant. She asked for food and a half an hour later a salarian came to the door with a tray in his hands. She briefly considered trying to fight him and taking off, but instead accepted the tray and let him close the door again.

At hour ten Citadel time, as she finished off yet another delicious but incredibly unidentifiable meal, another knock sounded at the door.

She opened it. It was Officer Ciluso.

 “Ma’am,” he said, his strange lips breaking into a smile. “Your ambassador has requested I escort you to see him. But, first, may I see your arm please!”

She held out her arm and watched as he attached an omni-tool to her wrist and activated it. She typed in some general requests, it worked. It even looked Alliance issue, which meant she’d be able to get commands and orders wherever she went. “Where did you get this?” she asked, nearly overwhelmed.

“I have my ways,” the salarian winked and flashed another smile and Shepard returned it, grateful. “Follow me, please.”

She straightened up and followed him out.

.

His name was Ambassador Donnel Udina, the salarian informed her as they walked down the white halls of the Citadel. There was another Ambassador before him but the Alliance had recently pulled her out and reassigned her. Udina was the one who helped sign the new agreement. The salarian seemed happy about that, when Shepard asked. “Peace is good. Always. Turians can focus efforts elsewhere. Humans can learn more about galaxy. Technologies to be exchanged. Benefit for all.”

She wondered why he spoke like that, and if all salarians did so. She didn’t mind so much, it just took some getting used to.

Officer Ciluso posted himself outside of the room and let her into the Ambassador’s office.

 Udina stood from his desk, shrewd eyes looking her over. “Lieutenant,” he greeted and she saluted.

“Ambassador,” she returned.

“At ease, soldier,” he said. “You’ve caused us quite a bit of trouble, I must say.”

“I was a prisoner of war, sir,” she replied. “I didn’t exactly have much choice in the matter.”

“Indeed,” he replied, with an arched eyebrow. “Well, you were lucky, I suppose, that one of those turian bastards decided to grow a conscience. Now you’re my problem to deal with.”

She kept her expression carefully blank. “I wanted to survive, sir, and now I’d like to return to my previous duties,” she wanted to yell at him, demand to know why she was drugged and had doctors set on her, but as it stood, she still needed a way to get home and yelling at her ticket off the Citadel was probably a bad idea.

“Yes, well, we’re working on that,” he said, glancing down at the desk in front of him. “A civilian transport from Earth is coming in three days for a summit. They leave two days after that. You’ll return with them and report to headquarters in Vancouver for further debriefing. Your fate after that is up to the Alliance,” he gave her the impression that he really didn’t care. “You’re free to explore the station in the meantime. Listen to whatever C-Sec has to tell you.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“You may go,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

“And Lieutenant,” he said as she turned away. She turned back again. “ _Try_ to keep yourself out of trouble. I don’t want to be responsible for cleaning up any more of your messes.”

What an ass. “Yes, sir,” she replied out loud.

She exited the room to find Officer Ciluso still standing there. “It went well, I assume?” he asked.

“Short and sweet,” Shepard returned between clenched teeth. “I go home in five days.”

 “Good!” Ciluso replied, smiling. “Five days. Not bad. Must be a relief. Soon you’ll be back among your people.”

“Yes,” Shepard said, eyeing him. Salarians were her favorite aliens, she decided. His overwhelming cheer was almost infectious. “Thank you,” she said. “For helping me out.”

Ciluso straightened his shirt and looked proud of himself. “Of course! Any time. Like new aliens, and new friends. I can show you around the Citadel. Take you to wherever you’d like to go. Within reason, of course.”

“Sure, sounds…” her face brightened considerably as she realized something. She hesitated only a moment before throwing all caution to the wind. “Can you take me to Garrus Vakarian?” she asked. Her heart skipped a beat as she said it. It felt dangerous to even ask, especially in front of the ambassador’s office. “I’d like to see him.”

He looked confused, his strange eyelids blinking twice. “I… that is an unexpected request!”

“The war is over,” she said. “There shouldn’t be a problem, should there?”

He recovered quickly. “It might be possible,” he said, smile returning. “Follow me.”

.

That was how she ended up sitting in the C-Sec main office, eyes wide as she looked out over the much closer Citadel. Just outside the glass she could see multitudes of other aliens, walking about, talking to one another. There were turians, a lot of them, but there were also equal quantities of salarians and asari and many other races, it was very difficult for her to feel threatened. None of them had given any indication of seeing her as she had been escorted by the police officer. She turned around and sat down on the bench, noticing how the turian at the front desk was studiously not looking at her.

Ciluso was off speaking with another turian on the opposite side of the room, their voices so low she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She shifted, listening to the rise and fall of their voices. The salarian spoke in short clipped sentences. The turian’s voice was much lower, more rumbly, like she was very much used to. He glanced over in her direction more than once. She gave him a sober look in reply.

She just wanted to see him, but she was patient. She could wait.

What felt like a good half an hour later and Ciluso came back over to her. “Red tape. Understandable. War still fresh. New. Said you wanted to see him. Doesn’t believe you.”

Shepard stood. “Hey!” she called out. That got his attention. The turian turned. He looked important. Shepard didn’t really care. She marched up to the turian, trying to ignore how her heart hammered in her chest as she did so. Every instinct inside of her screamed at her to back down, she was taking an unnecessary risk and she was going to end up dead. “I thought they said this damn war was over!”

He cocked his head to the side in a gesture that was more than a little familiar to her. It was Garrus all over and she realized belatedly that it wasn’t just him, it was all of them, all turians. He seemed to consider her for a moment before speaking to her.

“Ma’am,” he said. “I don’t mean any offense,” he held up a two fingered hand. “It’s for your own protection.”

“I don’t need to be protected from the turian that saved my life, several times!” she snapped. “I want to see him. Unless there is some law preventing it, I can’t see why I can’t!”

Her voice attracted attention. Another door down the hall opened and another turian stepped out, this one looking even more important than the one in front of her. He eyed her and she sized him up.

He came over to her and held out his hand. “Lieutenant Shepard,” he said in a voice that was deep and rich. “Officer Pallin. I am the officer who was in charge of Garrus Vakarian’s debriefing.”

She took his hand and shook it back.

“And?” she replied as she let go. “Is there any reason why I can’t see Garrus?”

He flashed his mandibles, though she couldn’t tell if he was smiling or grimacing. “I do admit I’m surprised you’re here, Lieutenant,” he said. “Though, I heard what you said. I think the entire ward heard you.”

He turned his head, nodding to Officer Ciluso. “Put in a call to the younger Vakarian. Ask him to come to main headquarters as soon as he is able. Tell him the human wants to see him,” he said. He paused. “And tell Officer Vakarian that I gave the order, if he protests.”

“Yes, sir,” Ciluso said with a salute and disappeared. Shepard found herself standing in the middle of C-Sec with a strange turian in front of her.

“Will you follow me, please?” Pallin asked, turning back towards his office and gesturing for her to follow him.

She did so, but not before she felt the rising fear and anticipation in her chest. She breathed in and out, steadied herself, and followed him.

His office was mostly utilitarian and white like the rest of C-Sec. She felt vaguely disappointed. She expected that there’d be some small sculptures, or shelves with a picture frame or two.

There was a chair in front of his desk and he gestured for her to sit in it. She sat.

He did as well, clasping his hands in front of his face and studying her intently for what felt like hours but was probably just a minute or two.

“How do you feel right now?” he asked.

“Fine,” she replied stiffly. She wasn’t fine. She was coming close to hyperventilating. The way he was looking at her reminded her of that day, nearly two weeks ago, when she was interrogated by turians. Except she had been naked and angry and… terrified.

She realized she was being irrational. They probably all looked like that. He wasn’t any different than any other turian.

The war is over, she reminded herself _. He can_ _’_ _t hurt you._

“I read your medical reports,” he said.

She froze in her seat.

He looked her up and down, then settled back, eyes cold ( _it’s just how they are, they all look like that. They do, really, shit, Shepard, hold it together._ )

“Garrus Vakarian insisted he never touched you in any way without your permission. Is this true?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“He was quite adamant about the fact,” he continued.

“As he should be, sir,” she felt herself relaxing. Okay, this was another one of those answer all the questions and assure everyone Garrus Vakarian wasn’t her enemy and hadn’t hurt her. She could handle this.

“I’m glad, in a way,” Pallin said, sitting back in his chair.

“Sir?” she replied.

“You give me hope,” he said.

“I don’t follow,” she returned and he sighed.

“Look at you,” he got up suddenly and she cringed before she could stop herself. He paused and looked her over very deliberately.

“You’re frightened of me, I can see it. Your breathing is off, your skin is flushed and your pupils are dilated. Common responses to danger. You’re not, by the way. In danger.”

She bit back another yes, sir thank you, sir and waited for him to continue.

“You’ve been though a horrific experience. Even I have to admit, the medical file on you is condemning. Yet here you are. Whether it’s because you want to be, or because of some misguided sense of obligation, you still came. And that’s why you give me hope, Shepard,” he turned back to her and she found herself lost in his predatory eyes. “We’ve been at war nearly twenty years. There’s a lot of bad blood between our people. I’ve seen individuals lose their brothers, fathers… entire families to this war. You give me hope because you took a chance when no one else should. In the aftermath of this war, people like you will be needed to be agents of peace between our two races.”

“I’m not quite sure I’m ready for that,” she said carefully.

He gave her a cold, assessing look. “You’re going to have to get ready for that very quickly. What do you think is going to happen the moment you go to greet your turian boyfriend?”

She opened her mouth to protest that he wasn’t her boyfriend when the officer pressed on. “The Citadel is a surprisingly small place, Lieutenant. Even the galaxy at large can be meddlesome. Rumors spread like wild fire. Fact spreads even faster. Your little indiscretion will be not so little in very short order.”

“Are you threatening me?” she questioned, her mouth dry.

He laughed, a deep guttural sound. “On the contrary, soldier. I’m congratulating you,” he pressed a button on his desk and opened a com link. “Is Vakarian here yet?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” was the reply.

He straightened and gestured for her to get up. “You’re free to go,” he said. “Go on, get out of here.”

She nodded and got up, exiting the room in quick purposeful strides. It took everything she had not to look back, and she could feel his eyes on her the entire way out.

.

There he was. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the main lobby, looking a little lost without anything to do. She felt relief rush though her, a stark contrast to how she felt while talking to Pallin.

His hands were clasped in front of him. The way he was twisting them together told her he was nervous as hell. He was wearing what looked like civilian clothes and that surprised her. She hoped he hadn’t lost his position in his military. She’d have to ask him. Later.

“Garrus,” she called out.

He looked up. Saw her. She nearly held her breath, because his expression was completely unreadable.

Then his mandibles flared and he smiled and he took a step towards her. Something broke then. She grinned and started to run.

He caught her in an embrace and held her, chuckling softly as he did so. “Miss me, Shepard?” he said and it was him, of course it was him, his voice low and rough in her ear. She laughed back and hugged him tightly, held onto him like she never wanted to let him go.

.


	13. Winds of Change

.

He spent the day after his interrogation wandering the Citadel while his father was at work. Nothing sparked his interest. It was like he was in a daze, though he did notice that other aliens had a tendency to get out of his way as he walked by. He supposed his grumpy demeanor didn’t help any.

He tried to look up where she was, but that was classified, not that he didn’t expect that.

It was barely evening when he found himself in Clora’s Den, drinking. His father would be disappointed in him, he thought as he downed his ale in one go. He shook his head to chase that from his mind. It didn’t matter what his father thought, and until he heard back from the Hierarchy about his readmission to the military, he was allowed to go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted… within reason.

He eyed the asari dancer off in the corner, watching as she twisted about, her lithe hips beating a rhythm in time to the music. It was far too _loud_. His eyes roamed, taking in the turian soldier watching another asari dancer, and finally a quarian… huh, not many of them around here… chatting with another turian in the corner. He wasn’t unique, he thought with a faint hint of disgust. Half of the turians here had probably fucked another alien or two, even if they had family back on Palaven.

He barely noticed the volus bartender refilling his drink, and he downed it just as fast as the first, letting the liquid numbness flow through him.

He was angry. He didn’t even know why. Probably because it all seemed so pointless. Pointless war, pointlessly pining over a human, pointless…

He got up then, suddenly and without warning, walking over to sit down in front of one of the asari table dancers. She paused, threw him a smile, and twisted about in ways he was fairly certain Shepard couldn’t even move in.

They were remarkably similar in a lot of ways. The skin was different, as was the fringe, but the arms and legs and torso and the surprisingly thick waist… that was all the same. The asari’s mouth curved up in a smirk just like her’s did. The dancer’s eyes were green, and yes, that reminded him of her as well.

But it wasn’t her. It wasn’t her at all, and he found he wasn’t even getting loose by looking at her.

Maybe he just needed some extra stimulation. He briefly considered renting her for the evening if she was available. He’d find a room somewhere near the docks and see if being with an asari, physically, was anything like being with a human.

He brought himself up short, cutting that line of thought quickly. He had just said good-bye to her less than a day ago. The mere thought of trying to fuck an asari to get her out of his head, _while she was still on the station_ , that was the worst kind of betrayal.

He gave up with a sigh and a frown, keyed in a payment on his omni-tool for the dancer and left.

He felt disgusting.

He went home, took a shower, and collapsed into the nest his father had prepared for him in the corner of the apartment.

He found himself entirely unable to sleep. When it finally did come it was uneasy, and for some reason he couldn’t shake the mental image of her from his head. Not of her kissing him, or curled against him, safe and protected in his arms, or anything pleasant. His thoughts kept returning to their first meeting, where she stared up at him, fear and rage in her eyes, the side of her face covered in dirt and grime.

.

He felt better the next day. His father greeted him at breakfast, and they ate together. They made small talk, Garrus mentioned he would probably go and buy new clothes that day, as all he had was his off duty uniform. His father approved. They didn’t mention her at all.

He did as he said, and went down to the Presidium Commons, bought a casual outfit to wear until he heard back about his next assignment. It could take a while, he was a long way from home, and he accepted that. He would be bored for the next couple weeks or so, but there were worst things to endure. The time would give him a chance to forget her.

He went for a walk, taking in the fresh recycled air and enjoying the calm.

It was only a short time later, as he sat on a bench looking over one of the many fountains, when the call came though on his omni-tool.

It was from the salarian C-Sec officer. The message was short. “The human wants to see you. She is insistent.” His map updated with the location of C-Sec headquarters.

Garrus stared. She…

His shock was quickly replaced with joy. Somehow she still wanted to see him, even after all she had been through… and then apprehension cut through the joy. She could be asking to see him to accuse him. He didn’t think he did anything to her she didn’t want, but with the end of the war, what if something had changed?

Feeling more nervous than he had ever been in his life, he made his way to the building.

.

When she called to him, he fleetingly wondered if she was still angry. She looked stunning, still in her military outfit, hair still bright and red and brilliant.

But no, that wasn’t anger on her face. She looked more relieved than anything, and he flashed his mandibles and stepped towards her.

She broke into a grin and started to run.

He caught her and held her as she embraced him firmly, and the relief he felt was intense. She wasn’t angry. She missed him, just as much as he missed her. He was vaguely aware of the fact that several C-Sec officers were openly staring, except for the salarian, who looked rather pleased with himself.

He was going to be okay. She was going to be okay as well. “Miss me, Shepard,” he asked, and she laughed. When she pulled away her eyes were dancing, a wide smile still on her face.

“Yeah, believe it or not,” she replied. “I had a shitty couple days. Wanna get me out of here?”

He pulled back and glanced at the salarian, who was hovering about like he was her keeper. He probably was. The officer shrugged sheepishly in response to the look Garrus gave him. “Must come with you. Will follow from a distance. Promise not to interfere.”

Shepard smiled at him, then looked back at Garrus. “Officer Ciluso,” she introduced him. “I like him,” she added, lowering her voice like it was a secret, even though he was still perfectly able to hear her.

Huh. Well, it would figure that she’d already be making friends. He pulled away and was only a little surprised when she looped her arm in his.

“So, the war is over,” he said conversationally as they walked out of C-Sec.

She nodded. “Yeah, guess there was a reason why they spared my life. Can’t say I’m disappointed,” and he chuckled. It faded as he grew more serious, walking down the halls towards the elevator that’d take them back to the Presidium.

“I thought you’d be angry,” he said quietly so that only she could here, not the officer trailing from a distance.

She stiffened beside him, but didn’t pull away or unloop her arm from his. “I am,” she said. “And it might be a while before I’m okay again. But I’m not angry at you, Garrus, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” she looked up at him now and he paused to return that look. She did let him go of him then, but only to reach up and touch the side of his face. “They kept me trapped in a room for the last day or so, and all I could think about was getting out and seeing you again.”

He blinked. “Shepard, I…” he didn’t know what to say. And here he had visited the darkest reaches of his mind, thought the worst of everything and gotten drunk while contemplating taking another alien home in order to try and forget her. He didn’t deserve her.

She seemed to realize what she had said and pulled away, placing her hand on his shoulder instead of his face. “I know it’s… not possible to continue this,” she said, her voice low. “I’m going back to Earth; you’re going to stay here. Life will continue on for both of us, and this,” she threw her arms out to encompass the entire station. “Won’t be anything but a memory.”

Now he felt like he was in pain. “Shepard…”

She pulled away completely, her eyes serious as she looked up at him. “I don’t care,” she said. “As long as I’m here and as long as I’m able, I want to be with you. If,” and for the first time since he had met her she seemed almost shy. “If you want that as well, of course. I know you have your father here, and your people and, hey, I’m just a prisoner of war you picked up. I know I initiated things between us, Garrus, and if you don’t want to continue, I completely--”

He cut her off by leaning down and kissing her like she taught him to. She hesitated, but only for a second, then she responded fiercely, looping her arms around his cowl, nipping at his mouth with her blunted teeth.

The officer coughed from behind them, and they pulled away. That was when Garrus noticed it. The hallway was empty, but not the ends, and they were about twenty feet away from a rapidly gathering, gawking crowd.

“Perhaps… displays of affection can be kept more… private. Avoid unwanted attention,” the salarian suggested lightly.

Garrus cleared his thoughts and stepped away from her, and Shepard, for her part, looked duly chastised. “Sorry, officer,” she apologized.

The salarian gave her an affectionate smile. “No harm done. Shall we go elsewhere?” he asked, eying the crowd again.

They kept their heads down as they made their way through the onlookers towards the elevators. He heard the murmurs, a couple scandalized comments that Shepard was a human soldier, what in the galaxy was she doing with a turian, and a deep turian voice, closer than most of the rest, declaring them an abomination.

She reacted to that, flinching back from the owner of the voice, and Garrus reached out, touching her arm and meeting the gaze of the heckler from over her head. It was an older turian, in civilian clothes, white paint on dark brown plates. His glare warned that if he wanted a fight, Garrus was more than willing to give it to him. Thankfully the other turian looked away first.

The salarian officer breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped into the elevator.

.

He took her to a popular restaurant near the Commons, on the border with one of the wards, that carried both asari and turian cuisine. Here the crowd was a little more progressive, the restaurant littered with inter-species couples. Even so the slightly flustered asari hostess led them to a table as far away from prying eyes as possible. He watched as Ciluso took a seat a few tables away.

The volume levels that had dipped when they entered the restaurant soon returned to normal. They were both given a datapad with the menu, though Shepard stared at it blankly.

“I have no idea what any of this is,” she said finally, putting the datapad down again.

“Look in the asari section,” Garrus replied dryly. “It’s less likely to make you sick.”

She gave him an unimpressed look. “I hope you’re paying,” she said. “My ambassador forgot to give me an allowance and somehow I don’t think they’ll take my Earth money.”

He put down his datapad as well. “It’s worthless anyway,” he said with a twitch of his mandibles to show he was teasing. “Now that you’re a member of the galactic community they’ll convert you over to credits in no time at all, and your money won’t mean anything to anyone but you.”

She raised both eyebrows at him. Luckily the waitress came back and interrupted a potential disagreement. Garrus told her what he wanted and asked her to give Shepard their most popular asari dish.

“Well, then,” he said, once the waitress left. “That settles that.”

Her eyes were no longer on him, but rather gazing out across the restaurant. “We’re being watched,” she said. She didn’t seem distressed about it, rather more like she was making conversation. He was sure if anyone tried to threaten them they’d be able to handle themselves, or, more likely, they’d be kicked out.

He shrugged. “Let them look,” he said.

“That turian over there looks really angry,” she continued, sounding almost bored.

Garrus glanced over. The turian looked away quickly, refusing to meet his eye. Garrus smirked. “Nothing he can do about it,” he said, returning his gaze to her. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he added. “Now that the war is over, they’ll have to get used to it, and quickly. This will be fairly normal, eventually.”

She looked back at him and now her smile was genuine. It slipped by degrees. “Eventually,” she agreed. “But that will be a long time from now.”

“Maybe so,” he replied. He reached out, across the table and took one of her hands in his own. She allowed it, though a slight frown marred her face.

“I go home in five days,” she said. “After that, well,” she looked away again. “You know this can’t continue, Garrus.”

She had already said as much. He gripped her hand a little tighter, but not tight enough to hurt her in any way. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to enjoy it while we can,” he replied, his voice low. He let go of her hand, or tried to, she wouldn’t let him go now. He wasn’t sure why that surprised him. “We’re already on borrowed time, Shepard,” he added. “We both should have died back on that planet.”

“But we didn’t,” she said, and now she did let him go, pulling back, a small smile playing at her lips. “And now we’re horrifying the entire galactic community.”

“The asari aren’t horrified,” he noted. “That salarian officer doesn’t look terribly upset either.”

“You know what I meant,” she replied. He smirked at her.

.

Their food came shortly after that. Her plate was full of green and brown things, and she dug right in, eating it happily with little sounds of pleasure as she did. He didn’t bother mentioning everything on her plate looked incredibly… inedible.

She spoke up first as a plate of exotic meats from Palaven was placed in front of him. “That looks unappetizing,” she said, and he found it amusing that she decided to mention the same thing he was thinking about her dinner. “Why is it blue?”

“You don’t see me insulting your food, Shepard,” he commented.

“That’s because my food is delicious,” she returned.

He snorted at that. “Most meat from my home planet is blue. Or purple.”

“Probably to make sure no one else accidentally eats it,” she replied cheekily.

This time he did chuckle out loud. “If you say so,” and she grinned at him before she continued to eat.

She was so… vibrant, and full of life. He was hit by another pang, but it wasn’t as bad as the day before. Sure, at the end of five days she’d leave him for her home planet, and maybe he’d never see her again, but just knowing she was out there somewhere put his mind at ease.

“You should come back with me,” she said near the end of their meal.

“What, to Earth?” he asked, momentarily horrified.

She laughed out loud at that. “No, no,” she reassured him. “That would be, uh, bad. I meant to my apartment. They put me up in this small place, but it has a bed…” she trailed off and gave him a significant look.

“Ugh, no,” he said. “Not… that I don’t appreciate the offer,” he added quickly when her face fell. Shit, that wasn’t what he meant. “I just mean your apartment is going to be bugged ten times over, and the last thing I need is for your ambassador to get a live vidfeed of us doing anything together.”

She grinned. “I might enjoy that,” she said. “The ambassador is a bit of an ass.”

“Even so,” he opened up his omni-tool and called up rooms for one day rentals. “I’ll find us some place,” he did, selecting one that included furnishings for both asari and turians. It was in one of the more metropolitan districts, not far from their location. “Done,” he said, closing the omni-tool again.

She gave him an affectionate look as she got to her feet.

.

The officer followed them out. Garrus gave him the location he wanted to take her.

“I see,” Officer Ciluso glanced at the location and looked up again. “I will escort you there,” he added. “And leave you for the night.”

Shepard gave him a surprised look. “What, no protests? You don’t have to get me back to my own apartment?” she asked.

“Officer Pallin gave the order. Wanted you to be together. How, is up to you,” and Garrus caught the wink he gave Shepard. Yes, they definitely liked each other.

His father wasn’t going to be pleased, but, he decided as he looked Shepard over, he’d have to come drag him away. He wasn’t going to give her up, not when they only had a few short days together.

.

She could barely keep her hands off of him during the taxi ride to the hotel, not that he was complaining. She scratched at his neck and nipped at the rim of his cowl, making him growl at her softly and return the favor, nipping and kissing at her ear and shoulder. The officer just drove the car as they fooled around in the backseat.

Ciluso looked positively jovial as he led them to their room. “I will return tomorrow, during the day. Need to check, make sure all is well,” he reached towards Shepard suddenly and she broke off trying to stick her hand up his shirt to take his hands in her own. “Please be safe,” the salarian said. “Very important. If harm comes to you… disaster. Bad for entire galaxy.”

“I would never let that happen,” Garrus spoke up.

“I know,” Officer Ciluso gave him a smile now as well. “Trust you to keep her safe.”

.

They fell into the room in a tangle of limbs and he wanted her, oh how he wanted her. She seemed to be on the exact same page as him, cursing as she tried to wiggle out of her uniform as quickly as she could. He didn’t help at all, touching any bit of pale freckled skin he could get his hands on, drawing his taloned hands over the patch of hair above her sex the moment she had her pants down.

“Off,” she demanded, tugging at his trousers. “Off, off, I need you in me now,” she added and he drew in a sharp breath. He had been loose enough in the cab over but now he was out completely, ready for her.

He drew his trousers down, just enough to free himself. In one quick motion he picked her up, pushing her back against the door, which he had locked, thankfully. She wound her legs around his waist and yodelled as he pushed inside of her.

He lasted embarrassingly little time. And here he thought an asari would do it for him. No, it was just her, she was all he wanted. 

.

They did it up against the door, on top of the asari bed, again on the floor, clothes forgotten in their desperate need to rut against each other. They laid together, panting after their last go, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her stomach, before dipping lower.

“Mmm, no more,” she said, drawing his hand up again. “I’m sore,” she added.

He froze at her words but she laughed and kissed his captured hand. “You were amazing,” she breathed.

He picked her up and placed her gently on the bed, carding his talons through her hair as she looked up at him through half lidded eyes. He checked her over carefully. She was red in places, but otherwise she looked okay. Still, he cursed his incompetence. He saw her medical report and she had none of that liquid that made it easier on her. “I’ll be back,” he told her softly.

.

Unsurprisingly, the front counter had gels to sell him, given the inter-species nature of the rental place. He stammered a thanks, when the asari maiden handed him a small packet of medicine. “For your friend,” she said with a wink. “In case of ingestion. It could cause a painful reaction if she doesn’t take this.”

“Uh,” he stared, then took the packet. He hadn’t even considered… he knew other species used their mouths during sex, but turians didn’t, for obvious reasons. She hadn’t, but if he could avoid making her sick if she wanted to…

“Here,” she said, handing another one to him. “This one is for you. Some turians like to lick, if you know what I mean,” she winked. “It’ll make her very happy.”

“Oh,” Garrus stared, then reached out and took the packet. “Uh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the asari said with a grin. “Come back for more if you need it.”

Right. He nodded his thanks and fled.

.

She looked like she was asleep when he got back to the room. He dropped the medication on the side counter, all thoughts of using it gone. Instead he approached the bed carefully, ripping open the packet of ointment as he did so. He poured it over her skin, hesitating a moment before rubbing it in carefully.

“That feels good,” she mumbled, and Garrus was surprised to see that she was awake, but barely. “’ur good with your hands,” she added.

He grinned at her and rubbed the ointment lower. She rolled then, legs parting to give him access, and sighed with contentment as he ran his fingers through her hair and down below. He made sure to be careful, as he slipped his finger inside, to not nick her. His talons were trimmed but he didn’t want to risk it and went very slowly.

Soon the ointment was gone and the red had faded from her skin.

The sighs he was getting from her showed she was enjoying having his finger inside of her. He carefully flicked his thumb over the tiny nub as she had shown him on that second day on the frigate. That got her arching off the bed ever so slightly, her movements still sluggish with sleep.

He glanced over at the counter, at the packet the asari had given him. He considered for a moment, then left her to go get it, ripping it open with his teeth. A pair of small pink pills fell out onto his palm. He looked at them for a moment, then tilted his head back and swallowed them.

She gave him a questioning look as he came back to the bed. “I just… I’d like to try something,” he said. She nodded and he positioned her so that her legs hung off the side of the bed. He knelt, took a good look at her sex (strange, to see it without plates on either side), then leaned forward.

The noise she made as he carefully licked her told him that she liked it. He did that some more, tracing a line all the way from between her folds to her nub, before plunging his tongue inside of her. She tasted… not bad. Faintly of ointment and of himself and more of just her. He pushed his tongue deeper, trying to find more of her taste.

“God, yes,” she panted, her hands pressed against the top of his fringe. He kept it up, coming back out to circle her nub again, twisting his tongue about it before pushing back inside. He listened carefully to her cries of pleasure, repeated what caused the best responses. Her soft noises had gotten him going again. He took himself in hand as he continued to work her. It took a while but he was finally able to wring yet another orgasm from her. He panted against her overheated skin as he brought himself off while still kneeling between her legs.

This time she fell asleep and stayed asleep. He positioned her on the bed in a way that seemed comfortable, then drew the blanket over her. He retreated to the turian nest in the corner and was asleep almost the moment he sat down.

.

He woke to find he wasn’t alone, she had not only awoken during the night, but had also come over and gotten into bed with him. He vaguely remembered that, as he blinked sleep from his eyes, how she had come over with the blanket and curled against him.

Having her against him while sitting, wrapped in a blanket, reminded him of another time.

“At least we’re not in danger of freezing to death on the Citadel,” he commented.

“Mmm, true,” she mumbled and nestled closer. She was quiet for a long moment. “Thanks for last night.”

“I think I should be thanking you,” he replied, running a hand along the bare skin of her shoulders and down an arm.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Not just… that. I meant dinner. All of it. It was a good night, Garrus.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “It was.”

.

They stayed in bed as long as they could, but the fact of the matter was, she was still sore and they were both hungry. He let her use the shower first, while he sat on the asari bed and flipped on the holovid.

He froze as the headline blared across the screen. “Forbidden Love,” it read and the face of an eager asari news reporter came on, along with a picture. “The two were seeing exchanging a kiss as you can see here…” and the camera zoomed in on the picture.

He sat absolutely still. It was him and Shepard, kissing in the hallway near the elevator, plain as daylight for everyone to see. Now it was on the news…

He paused the vidfeed and put his head in his hands. This… this wasn’t good. His father was going to see this, as well as C-Sec, though C-Sec was probably perfectly aware of where they were and what they had just spent the night doing…

She re-emerged from the bathroom, towelling her wet hair. “What is it?” she asked when she saw the look on his face.

He didn’t reply, merely unpaused the vid.

“The strange couple were then seen sharing a dinner together before booking a room for the night. Reports suggest the turian in question, Garrus Vakarian, was responsible for saving the human during a recent batarian pirate raid and their relationship began soon after.”

“Oh,” Shepard said. She gave him a significant look. “How much trouble do you think we’re in?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Depends on if your ambassador sees this and decides to make a galactic incident out of it.”

She actually shrugged. “I don’t care about him,” she said. “And it’s not like you’re doing anything I don’t want you to do.” She paused. “Your father will find out, though,” she added, and looked troubled.

“He already knows,” Garrus replied grimly. “He will not appreciate the indiscretion, however.”

She came over and kissed him on the top of his fringe. “I’m not ashamed of you,” she said quietly, repeating his own words back to him. “All we did, publicly, was share a kiss. What we do in private is our own business.”

He gave her a wondering look, and she merely sat beside him on the bed and placed her head on his shoulder. “I nearly died. I can take whatever judgement the galaxy decides to throw at me. I can even take over-protective turian fathers. Watch me.”

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He reached out to put his arm around her, holding her against his side. She leaned up to kiss his cowl, and he nuzzled her forehead affectionately.

He cared about her, so much. The vid didn’t matter, he realized. The fallout from the news report would be something he’d deal with later. He switched off the screen and turned to concentrate fully on the beautiful human woman he held in his arms.

.


	14. New Beginning

.

She curled against him on the bed, enjoying his closeness, and his gentle touch. She thought he might pull back in the aftermath of seeing that news report, but if anything he was even more affectionate. He didn’t push her, she was still sore below,  but his hands touched everywhere else, soothing as they coasting over muscles, weeding out aches and pains she hadn’t realized she had.

Officer Ciluso came back, sometime later, to check to see if she was okay. Of course she was, and she told him as much.

“We’re hungry, though,” she added, giving him a hopeful smile. She hadn’t been given an allowance, she hadn’t lied about that, and she didn’t want Garrus to pay for her every meal out of whatever meager salary the turians gave their soldiers.

Ciluso beamed. “Bring you something,” he glanced in the room, where Garrus was lounging on the bed, wearing only the pants he had just barely managed to get back into. “You are well?”

“Very,” she replied with a smile.

“I will leave you be!” he replied quickly, clasping his hands together. “Please have Vakarian contact me if you wish to leave. Unfortunate… news has happened. Don’t want you to be in danger.”

She laughed at that. “We know,” she said. “Sorry for causing you so much trouble.”

His smile was affectionate. “Not much trouble. Be back soon,” he promised.

She turned back to the bed after he was gone. “In case you were getting any ideas, salarians don’t, ahh,  _reproduce_  the same way we do,” Garrus said blithely. “They don’t have a sex drive. I don’t think they have the  _equipment_  either. He wouldn’t be able to return your affections.”

 She stalked over to the bed and threw a pillow at him.

He chuckled, deep and hearty, and took her arm to pull her down onto the bed with him.

It was that that triggered it, just by taking her arm and pulling her towards him, a harmless enough gesture.  It was an automatic reflex. She froze and resisted, just for an instant, and then she forced herself to relax. He picked up on it. He went still and released her arm instantly. She ended up falling anyway, and braced herself on either side of his chest, eyes wide as she stared down at him. He lay under her, hands turned up to catch her if she fell against him but not touching, his eyes sharp as he inspected her silently.

She dropped her eyes. “Sorry,” she apologized breathlessly. “I just…” she frowned, slightly frustrated at her reaction. They had had sex several times, she shouldn’t… he wasn’t a threat. For a split second her brain had gotten confused.

Then again, she supposed it made sense. She was a trained soldier, and her lightening quick reflexes had saved her ass more than once both before and after she joined the Alliance.

He reached up, very slowly as to not startle her, and pressed his hand to the side of her face. When she didn’t move away he leaned up towards her, his eyes closing as he very gently pressed his forehead to her own. She shut her eyes as well and breathed. When he pulled away his voice was deep and soothing. “You’re safe with me,” he said.

She allowed herself a soft smile. He was so…

Sweet. That was the word she was looking for. In any other situation she’d laugh at him but he was so earnest she didn’t want to, for fear she’d hurt him. That was something a little uncomfortably close to-- she didn’t want to think about it.

You’re going home in four days, she thought to herself. Stop.

She was silent for a moment. “I think that might be the problem,” she said. “I feel too safe.”

He gave her a quizzical look. “Oh?”

The tension had passed, and she grinned, easily, sitting up in the bed. “I just survived hell and though this has been fun, Garrus, I could really…” she cracked her knuckles.

He sat up as well. “Mmm. Violence. I see,” he seemed to consider. “Shooting range?” he suggested.

What?  _Yes_. That sounded amazing. She gave him a hopeful look. “Does the Citadel have one of those?” she asked.

“Yes it does,” he replied and looked positively gleeful now. He switched on his omni-tool. “Let me call C-Sec,” he said. “See if I can get you clearance.”

.

That was when she learnt Garrus Vakarian was a better sniper than she was. She had been one of the best on her team, but his aim was perfect, almost all of the time. More than once she stopped shooting just to watch in open appreciation as shot after shot hit home, tearing the computerized target apart.

At least she did, until her thoughts started to wander.

It was that aim that killed…

She shut that thought down instantly. No. She wasn’t going to go down that path. She wasn’t going to turn every single thing that happened between them into a landmine. If she couldn’t get over it, there was little hope for their species to ever get along. She shook her head slightly and turned back to her own target, using the small pistol they gave her to practice with. She fired off five rounds and stepped back.

“Ohhhh, a little off there, Shepard,” he said from behind her, slouching up against the side of her cubicle, smugness radiating from him.

She squared her shoulders. “Anyone ever tell you not to sneak up behind someone with a loaded weapon, Garrus,” she returned.

He chuckled again, but stepped back. “Non-lethal bullets, Shepard. Those wouldn’t hurt a turian. Maybe the VI is feeling a bit threatened, however. Or would, if you had sliiiightly better aim.”

 She turned around. “One day,” she said, handing the pistol to him butt first and stepping down so he could take her place. “I’m going to beat you, Vakarian.”

His voice was low and almost silky as he replied and she was reminded yet again of one of the reasons why she decided that having sex with him would be a really nice idea. “I look forward to it,” he said and sauntered up to the mark.

.

She almost forgot Officer Ciluso existed, until he met with them just inside of the shooting range after they finished their session. He looked out of breath as he came up to them. “Sorry. Slight difficulty. News makes travel unwise. Things still tense. Come with me, please.”

Shepard exchanged looks with Garrus, who looked grim as he turned to follow Ciluso. She noticed how the turian started walking half a step in front of her, his hand slightly turned away from his body, towards her, protective and shielding. She frowned. She didn’t need protecting any more than he did. She was a soldier. Even if she wasn’t quite as good with a rifle as he was, she could certainly defend herself.

They rounded the corner and she stopped cold.

“Oh,” was all she said, and then the swell of angry voices overwhelmed her.

They were turians, most of them anyway. A couple other races seemed to be speckled among them. They were wearing all sorts of colors, most of them shouting. She couldn’t even make out that many words, but the ones she did made her frown. “Whore” was one, as well as “vermin”.

“Obviously they think highly of me,” she said dryly, and she caught Garrus’ quick sidelong glance. He was tense as hell, eyes cold as ice. Officer Ciluso stood in front of them and didn’t turn, and she also saw that he had his hand pressed to the top of his pistol.

Right, hostile situation. Not a good time for witty comments.

They didn’t step forward and the crowd stayed back. They were at an impasse. It was then that she noticed there were two turians coming through that crowd towards them. That made Shepard tense herself, bending her knees and going into a defensive position. She might not have a gun but she’d fight them if she had to.

It turned out she didn’t have to fight anything. The closer they got the more she saw that the two turians were ordering others out of the way. The crowd reluctantly parted.

They were C-Sec officers and she heaved a small sigh of relief. They broke through the crowd and stepped towards them. They merely nodded at Officer Ciluso, before taking up flanking positions on either side of Garrus and Shepard.

The two turians looked impassive and professional and neither one of them looked at her. Even so, Shepard took a half step towards Garrus and her turian placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

“Where are we going?” Garrus asked Ciluso, who had relaxed considerably as well and took a brave step forward, leading their group.

“Back to C-Sec. Not good to remain outside. Unsafe for Shepard.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Shepard muttered.

“The human ambassador wants to see you again,” the salarian added as they continued to walk towards the crowd. Amazingly enough they quieted completely and parted to let them through. She could feel several sets of angry eyes on her, but no one made a move towards her, probably because they had three serious looking police officers with them and all of them were armed.

If the ambassador wanted to see her after all this, well. It couldn’t be anything good. “Damn it,” Shepard swore under her breath.

They piled into the elevator together, the two turian officers still studiously would not look at her, the picture of professionalism, and she allowed Garrus to pull her into a quick side embrace. “I have a feeling this might be it, Shepard,” he rumbled at her.

She glared up at him. “Don’t say that.”

He let out a soft “ha” and pulled away. “Look me up, after all this has blown over,” he reached out and took her arm, tapping open her omni-tool and entering some quick commands. “You can reach me at that address, from almost anywhere in the galaxy. Within reason of course. It might not work on Earth.”

She frowned. “Well, I’ll just have to find a way off of Earth then,” she replied.

He shrugged. “Just wait a year. They’ll have communication lines opened up on Earth in no time. You’re one of us now.”

“That’s a scary thought,” she replied and he chuckled again.

He put his arm around her again and she didn’t move away.

.

Parting outside of C-Sec was actually painful. His father was there, radiating stern fatherly disapproval, and Pallin was there as well, looking serious and unhappy, though that might have been how he always looked.

“I’ll take her to her ambassador now,” Officer Ciluso said, saluting Officer Pallin. The older C-Sec officer nodded and waved them both off.

Garrus reached out and gave her hand one last squeeze. Watching him walk back towards his father felt painful and she found she had to look away quickly.

She didn’t look back.

.

The ambassador was beyond livid when she was led to his office, a datapad in his hand which he abruptly tossed onto his desk before she even managed to get off a salute.

 “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded to know. “I let you go to explore the Citadel and do whatever you want - within reason - and I find you’ve been fraternizing with the same turian that held you prisoner?!” his face was red and he was shouting, standing now instead of sitting.

She was taken aback for a moment. That wasn’t exactly what she expected, though she supposed it wasn’t unsurprising. “He saved my life,” she said simply. “Sir.”

Udina drew a calming breath, and then another, straightening up, his mouth curved down in a frown, his hands clasped behind his back. “So you decided to repay him with sex,” he said with disgust. “Is that it?”

Her blood went chill at that, and at the same time cold fury rose inside of her. It grew as he continued.

“I could understand while you were on that ship, you didn’t know where he might be taking you, after all, but to get a room together? In full view of the  _entire Citadel_?!”

She held back with tremendous effort.  Each word seemed to punch between her teeth when she spoke again. “Not that it is any of your concern,  _sir_ , but it wasn’t in front of the entire Citadel. The room was private. A C-Sec officer took us there.”

“That kiss that I had the unfortunate opportunity to see on the news, wasn’t  _in private_ , soldier,” he returned at her, his lip curled up into a sneer.

She shut her eyes and swallowed down a scream, every muscle in her body rigid. “That was a mistake,” she replied, amazing herself at how calm she sounded. “For which I apologized.”

“That does not change the fact that it happened,” he sat again, abruptly. “C-Sec can no longer guarantee your safety. Until the turian population of this blasted station learns that the war is actually over, you are hereby confined to your apartment, which, I might add,was _graciously_ providedtoyou.”

She forced her face to be carefully blank, though her insides were twisting. “I thought the war was over,” she managed to get out, unable to just let it go. “I shouldn’t be forced to be a prisoner because assholes exist,” there was anger in her voice now, she couldn’t restrain it any longer.

Instead of becoming more incensed he seemed to soften a bit. “The war might be over, Lieutenant, but the fires still rage. It will be months before any sort of change will come about and your _interference_  isn’t helping any.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied stiffly.

“We might yet be able to turn this thing around,” he said and got up again. She watched as he began to pace behind his desk. “Your story is one of cooperation, outside of your unseemly interest in each other. I’ve requisitioned the report C-Sec filed on your _friend_ and I will work to release non-sensitive data to the media. They’re already grasping, putting information together from hearsay and lies. The first report this morning was the kindest, the rest… well, let’s just say they don’t exactly paint you in the most positive light. At this point the truth can’t make it worse,” he shot her a nasty look.

“Do you want my permission, sir?” she asked. After grounding me like a child, she thought, but didn’t say it.

“I don’t need it, Lieutenant,” he paused. “But… I felt you should know.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. She sighed mentally. The galactic community knowing what she had been through wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her. She was alive, after all.

“I know a salarian reporter. Voss, I think it is. He covered the signing of the peace agreement last week. I can get him in, make his report the official one. It would end most of this unpleasant business, I would think. As long as you remain hidden there shouldn’t be any further difficulties.”

She didn’t say anything and now his small eyes glanced over at her. “If it makes you feel better, soldier, news is a fickle thing in this galaxy. Once you leave the station you will be forgotten in less than a week. Next time you come to visit, I’m sure you will no longer be the darling of media’s eye and you’ll be free to roam anywhere, and associate with anyone you want to.”

That was as close to an apology as she was going to get, she realized. She nodded once abruptly. “I would feel better if I wasn’t confined to my room like a prisoner, sir,” she said. “Surely C-Sec…”

“… Have better things to do than escort you around like armed baby-sitters, Lieutenant,” he said and sat at his desk again. “You may go,” he said curtly. “The transport will be leaving here in four days. C-Sec will come and escort you there at that time, I expect you to be ready.”

“Yes… sir,” she choked out in reply.

Officer Ciluso was waiting for her when she emerged. She ignored his sympathetic looks and followed him back to her apartment in silence.

.

She barely noticed that the officer spent a little bit more time than usual in her apartment once they got there, looking over the cupboards, fluffing pillows on her sofa, typing commands into his omni-tool as he did so. She figured that it was part of his agreement to make sure she was comfortable. At the door he offered her condolences once again. She managed a small smile in return, one she definitely didn’t feel.

“Thanks again for your help,” she told him.

“Any time,” he replied. “Been a pleasure. Take care, Shepard.”

She nodded and he slipped out the way he came.

She gazed out of the window after he left, deep in her thoughts, almost all of them bad. This was her fault, of course, she should have been more careful. Still, there wasn’t much she could do about it now, and she had a feeling things would have gone to shit no matter what happened. If she hadn’t demanded to see Garrus, she would have probably been cornered by angry turians anyway. Wars didn’t just disappear overnight.

Hopefully the peace would hold. Even more, she hoped that now that the turians weren’t their enemies any longer that another enemy wouldn’t pop up to take their place. The odds weren’t good, there was still that ship that attacked them on the way to the Citadel.

Later in the evening she tried to sleep. She couldn’t for the life of her. She shut her eyes and organized her thoughts, using an old mental exercise that used to calm her down.

Ten years from now, where would she be?

She paused as she drew a blank. This used to be easy. Ten years… she’d be 31. Would she be a decorated soldier? She used to think she’d be a Commander by then. Would that still happen to her, after this nasty business? She was a young, compromised prisoner of war, after all.

She blinked up at the ceiling and frowned.

She knew she didn’t want to be working manual labour at that time or scrounging to get by on Earth. It seemed like a waste.

Hopefully the military would keep her.

She’d prove her worth to them. She would. She’d become the best damn soldier the galaxy had ever seen.

.

She slept eventually. The next day she ate by requesting food from the VI and having it delivered to her door. She showered and got dressed again, smoothing out the lines of her uniform. She was looking forward to getting home and having some casual clothes again.

She did exercises and stretches to take her mind off of the fact that she was trapped in a room with no way to leave.

Her omni-tool lit up in the afternoon, as she stood in front of the window again, making mental games of trying to count the hover cars.

She blinked down at it. The message didn’t appear to be coming from regular mail channels, but rather was pushed to the front of the display, as if on a short range messaging system.

It said three short words.

_Bored yet, Shepard?_

The corner of her mouth twitched, turning upwards into a smile.

Garrus. He must have done something to her omni-tool to allow it to receive messages like this, establishing a direct link with her omni-tool from his own. She saw this kind of thing from time to time back in basic, some of the more technologically inclined engineers would hack into the network to send quick messages back and forth. That also meant whatever he was writing probably wasn’t being tracked.

She typed back rapidly, hoping the interface he had set up would hold.

_Took you long enough._

The text disappeared from view and she waited, biting her lip.

She didn’t have to wait long.

_Sorry, been a bit busy. My father isn’t pleased._

There was a pause.

_I was interviewed extensively by a reporter. A salarian who seemed to want to know a great deal about my personal history. Something I should know?_

Of course, that reporter the ambassador had mentioned. If they were cleaning up the story, it would make sense that Garrus would be involved.

She typed back. _My ambassador wanted a story to counter the scandal._

 _I’m not sure if it worked, but an admirable effort, I suppose._ She smirked at his response and went over to the couch, sitting down as she continued to type.

 _You okay?_  She couldn’t help but to ask. She couldn’t get near him, but the turians on the station were probably just as angry at him as her and she was a little worried. Not that she didn’t think he could hold his own, but just in case. She had a feeling that report might have been less than charitable towards him as well, which didn’t help matters any.

_I’m fine, more worried about you. They said you’re not allowed out, which seems completely unreasonable. I’d have words with your ambassador, but at this point I’d be afraid of starting another war._

She chuckled at that, and at the anger she could sense between the lines of text. He was probably just as upset with the current situation as she was. She placed her hand over the omni-tool, looking up to watch the traffic as it rushed by her window.

 _Well, I’m stuck here and I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I’m alive and well._ She paused, then typed something else.  _Tell me a story, Garrus._

_What, beyond current events?_

_I’ve had enough of current events, believe me,_  she replied.

There was a pause before her omni-tool flashed with a return message.  _There was this time I was stuck on this awful backwater planet during a Blue Suns raid. Did I tell you about that?_

She smiled and settled in, the light from her omni-tool illuminating her face.

.

Three days. Being trapped in a room wasn’t as bad when you had someone to talk to the entire time. Even if it was all in text. She woke on the last day feeling melancholic, going about her daily routine slowly and deliberately. She still did her exercises and put on her uniform and studied the Citadel traffic from her window.

Officer Ciluso came to get her when it was time to leave, appearing with two turian C-Sec officers. If she wasn’t mistaken it was the two officers that helped lead her to safety earlier in the week. “Shepard,” he greeted warmly. “I’ve been asked to take you to the docks. Soon you will be on your way home.”

“Yes,” she replied, and she thought she saw sympathy in his large dark eyes.

.

She followed them down through the halls and down the elevators until she emerged at the docks.

This was it.

The ship was definitely a human frigate, bigger than her last one by far. She didn’t recognize the designation. It sat in the docking bay, awaiting its new passengers. She afforded a glance at her two turian companions, but they took a step back in unison, standing on either side of the entrance to the elevator. Only Ciluso remained by her side.

Udina was standing near the airlock, surrounded by a half a dozen other humans and flanked by two turian C-Sec officers she didn’t recognize. As she stepped towards them he looked up and gave her an annoyed look. She saluted and he gestured for her to approach.

She had nearly reached the ambassador when she heard the elevator open up behind her. She turned, then she stopped cold and stared.

It was Garrus.

He stood awkwardly at the mouth of the elevator, looking more than a little uncertain as he took in the docking bay. He seemed to steel himself and stepped forwards.

“What… what is he doing here?!” she heard the ambassador exclaim, and at the same time Ciluso stepped towards the elevator.

“Oh, good! Expecting your arrival,” he turned back to the ambassador cheerfully. “Asked him to come. Customary in both cultures to give their regards upon parting.”

Shepard tried valiantly to hide a smile as Udina stared at the salarian officer with his mouth slightly open. So, this was planned.

She’d take it.

“Garrus,” she called out before Udina could object, and held her arms open in greeting. He looked relieved, mandibles flaring slightly and eyes warm as he crossed the rest of the distance towards her. She barely registered the gasps of alarm from the small cluster of humans, and the noise of utter indignation from Udina. She didn’t have eyes for anyone but him.

Garrus reached her, and she hugged him, burying her face against his cowl. He smelt good, slightly metallic with a faint, almost spicy scent that was completely his own. He smelt like  _safety_  to her and she found that she had missed it. He held her a touch longer than necessary before letting her go to stand in front of her, her hands clasped in his own. “Promise me you’ll keep in touch, Shepard,” he said simply.

She gave him a sober look. “You know I go wherever the Alliance points me,” she replied, diplomatically. “But I’ll do my best,” she said. She blinked and he leaned in towards her before hesitating.

She smiled and reached up, touching the side of his face before closing the distance.

The gasps from the humans behind them were telling. They were going to be talking about this the entire way back to earth, she knew. She didn’t really care. She pulled away and he blinked down at her, before flaring his mandibles and pressing his forehead to her own. “I’ll miss you,” he said softly.

“I’ll miss you too, Garrus,” she pulled away reluctantly and he did as well. She steeled herself, forcing her expression not to waver. “Take care of yourself and don’t get into any trouble.”

“Of course.” He gave her hand one last squeeze before letting go and nodding towards the group of humans. She quickly checked out the C-Sec officers both at the elevator and with Udina, wondering if the disdain for her relationship with Garrus would apply to them. Thankfully none of them looked angry, but a couple of them looked slightly bored. Udina looked livid, however.

She still didn’t care. How could she? After what he had put her though. She could have been with Garrus for the last three days, instead of just sending messages back and forth.

She forced her anger down as well, made her face carefully blank.

Stepping away from him was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

He was still standing there as she boarded the frigate, officer Ciluso by his side, the turian C-Sec officers and the ambassador flanking them. The moment after she stepped onboard, past the airlock seal, she turned. She waved one last time and he raised his hand to wave back.

The airlock hatch slid into place and he was gone.

.

  
She stood there, staring at the closed paneling for a long moment, far after the other humans had turned to retreat from the airlock. When she finally turned away it was with a soft sigh of regret. 

Perhaps she'd see him again. If she worked hard at it, she was sure she'd be able to make her way back to the Citadel someday, even if just for a visit.

It was just a matter of time.

In the meantime she'd write him as soon as she was able. Even if that didn't work, no matter what, she'd never forget him. How could she?

For now, she'd live the life he had given her when he saved her. She was Jane Shepard and she was a survivor.

She turned away and walked into the rest of the ship, her head held high.

.


	15. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

.

The media storm died down a couple weeks after she left, and his father started talking to him a week or so after that. He was fairly sure everyone had decided his shameful romp with the human was an unfortunate rebellious stage brought on by a misguided sense of responsibility. He received more than his fair share of lectures on how to be a proper citizen from his father and officer Pallin, the latter of whom suggested he put his enthusiasm to good use instead of making a fool of himself in front of the entire galaxy.

He quit the military officially and applied to go to C-Sec academy. He planned to do so anyway. He was accepted immediately, though he had a feeling that was more because of some wrangling on his father’s part.

He asked for his own apartment as well. Moving and new career changes were enough to keep his mind off of things. He watched the news a lot. The peace was holding. Turians pulled out of human controlled systems, and the humans made noises about how they’d ask the Citadel council before establishing new colonies.

The first humans started to trickle into the Citadel. C-Sec met out harsh punishments for harassment. The turian population of the Citadel learnt to live with the new addition to the galactic community and the skirmishes died down after the first couple weeks.

The human embassy opened mere weeks after the peace agreement was signed. He started to see humans more and more often, either on the docks or walking around the Presidium Commons. He was surprised and a little grateful, the first time he saw a human woman that he… felt nothing. She didn’t compare. None of them did.

He got his first message from her almost a month later.

_Back on Earth safely. I was reinstated to the army. We ship out tomorrow. Can’t say where. Miss you.– J.S._

He grinned, relief washing over him as he read her words. He typed up a reply right away.

_Miss you as well. I was accepted into C-Sec academy. With any luck I will be an officer next time you see me. All is well here on the Citadel. Take care and stay safe. – G_

.

Another few months went by. He started as a junior officer and received his first few assignments. He wrote her from time to time, but received no reply. He didn’t think much of it beyond a small tug of disappointment and a sliver of concern, which he brushed aside. If she was on assignment there was a good chance she was cut off. Being Alliance Military also meant that she probably didn’t have permission to randomly write her turian… whatever he was to her.

 The next time he heard from her was a few months after that.

_Got your notes. Thanks for writing them. I miss you, Garrus. I’ve made some friends here in the army but it’s just not the same. When we get together again, let’s cause some trouble, just you and me._

_I’m taking shore leave on Elysium next week. I tried to get the Citadel, but they said I can’t yet. I made them promise next year. I’ll have a drink to you while on leave. Take care of yourself, officer. – J.S._

A week after that he heard news of the attack on Elysium and he panicked. He could barely concentrate on his duties that afternoon, and watched every news broadcast he could, trying to hear something about her.

He didn’t have to wait long. “Shepard is being regarded as a war hero for her actions during the Skyllian Blitz, commanding a band of civilians to hold off the pirates…”

It showed a picture of her as well. Dressed in full armor, her face distorted into a frown, eyes piercing. He stopped the vid and traced her face with his fingers.

His note to her was short.

_Congratulations on becoming a war hero. – G_

Her reply was shorter.

_Don’t you start. – J.S._

.

In 2178 she finally made it to the Citadel. He got the message about four hours before she docked and booked the afternoon off of work. He stood there on the docks with nervous anticipation, waiting for her to disembark. What if she no longer felt anything for him? It was a possibility. They had such a short time together, only a couple weeks. It was nothing, really, compared to the three years between then and now. He realized that this might be nothing more than a meeting between friends.

He tried to calm himself, running his eyes over the people milling about at the docks waiting for the soldiers to get off. Most of them were humans. It had only been three years, but the human population on the Citadel had exploded. Mostly civilians setting up shops, but some girls worked at Flux now, and there were even some new C-Sec recruits, in the interest of Galactic co-operation. They were good kids, and most of them were exemplary officers who didn’t seem to mind working side by side with turians. The ones that did were sent back to Earth.

She looked stunning as she stepped off the ship. Her sharp gaze roved over the docks until she finally saw him. She smiled, but he did notice she was walking much more stiffly than she used to. There was an air of confidence around her, and of authority.

She was carrying herself like a distinguished soldier, he thought to himself, and felt a small well of pride. She _was_ a distinguished soldier, after all, still a Lieutenant according to his reports, but there were a couple that mentioned they were considering promoting her early to Lieutenant Commander. He didn’t blame them.

She made it to him and he hesitated, before holding out his hand. She arched one eyebrow at him, then smirked and gave him a strong hug. “It’s been too long,” she said when she pulled away.

He hugged her back happily, ignoring the strange looks the humans around him were giving them. Apparently they hadn’t been around three years ago when those reports where going around. Yes, he thought at them. We’re _that_ couple.

“So,” she said, pulling away again, eyes bright as she gazed up at him. He reached up and traced the lines of the new scars she had on her face, one under her eye and another above her eyebrow. She laughed and pulled away.

“Hazards of the job. You’ve grown, I see. And I thought you were tall before!”

He blinked. “I hadn’t noticed,” he said. He honestly hadn’t. Then again he had always been rather average height for a turian.

“Really, I thought you would have, with all these short humans running around,” she looped her arm in his. “So, Garrus, you gonna give me the tour?”

“Of course,” he replied.

 He showed her around the Citadel. She rented a place for her shore leave, and she showed him around that. Mostly the bedroom though.

.

He didn’t like it when she had to leave, it felt like it came far too quickly.

“Might be a while,” she said when he went to see her off. He couldn’t quite keep the disappointment off of his face. “Remember, we discussed this. Don’t wait for me, we’re not exclusive.”

“Yeah, I know,” he grumbled in reply. She was a lot less restrained when it came to sexual relations with her friends and other soldiers, and he knew he should be as well. Goodness knows turians were open about recreational sex.

It was just something he was unable to do, however. She was the only person for him. It was his secret. For now, he just lived with it. Celibacy wasn’t that bad, and they just made a week of memories that would last him a very long time.

She nodded, though her eyes were dark and searching. Finally she nodded and smiled, then turned away to board the shuttle.

.

They kept up the correspondence. She managed to make it back to the Citadel one more time in 2080, as a freshly promoted Lieutenant Commander. They had two weeks this time, and spent half of that time in a bed together. The other half they spent at the shooting range showing off their skills, or walking about the commons gossiping about anything and everything. There were so many humans on the Citadel now and she joked that she might just retire and set up a shop as well.

She couldn’t possibly feel out of place, and she didn’t. They shared a look when they spotted a young human woman chatting up an obviously flustered and much older turian C-Sec officer. It had been five years since the end of the war. Things were changing, slowly but surely. Soon they wouldn’t even be considered odd or rare.

He felt a sense of peace as he sent her off after that. His emotions weren’t quite as raw as they were after the last time she visited, and the time apart had done a lot to calm him. She wasn’t his, not right now at least, but she meant the galaxy to him as a close friend.

Their notes back and forth petered out over the next three years. He stopped talking to his father. He felt like his career at C-Sec was stagnating. He stopped thinking of her so much and started thinking of how he wanted to do something, _anything_ , with his life that wasn’t this. It felt like nothing he did was making any change at all. He was far more angry than he used to be. He felt himself slipping when he interrogated criminals. He received a couple informal reprimands for assault and he steered clear of his father completely after that.

It had been a good half a year since he last heard from here when he suddenly got a ping while on duty.

_What do you know about a Specter named Saren? – J.S._

He paused before writing back. He knew Saren, and enough reports had crossed his desk over the years about the Specter’s record. He also knew he was completely untouchable, which was more than a little infuriating. The turian was a criminal, and deserved to be brought to justice.

_Some. Why? – G_

Her reply was almost instantaneous.

_Mission went badly. Heading to the Citadel. – J.S._

He frowned at that. Did Saren attack her squad? The war had been over for eight years, no turians should be attacking any humans, Specter or not, criminal or not. What the hell happened?

Either way… she was coming to the Citadel. He couldn’t quite help the feeling of joy that rose up in him at that. Even if she was still on duty, he’d be able to see her again. It had been far too long.

He typed his reply quickly, affection in every keystroke.

_See you soon. – G._

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to each and every one of my readers, and especially to my commenters, you've brightened my days considerably with your remarks. To be honest I never expected to write a book this summer, and the response has been incredible. I’m happy to have contributed to this wonderful fandom. Thanks again for reading!
> 
> \- Space


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